


Sticks and Stones

by FoxInBox_aka_FIB



Category: Naruto
Genre: A lot of stuff happens, Adult Content, Adult Language, Blood, Body Horror, Canon-Typical Violence, Death, Human Experimentation, Kaguya Clan, Otogakure - Freeform, Panic Attacks, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, Yuki Clan
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-31
Updated: 2018-07-17
Packaged: 2018-08-12 04:29:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 135,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7920541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FoxInBox_aka_FIB/pseuds/FoxInBox_aka_FIB
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kaguya Mayuri suspected that if she hadn't known the truth, she would have been taken in like every other strangely devoted follower of Orochimaru. She reminded herself that she had the advantage here. After all, she knew his game and she knew just how good he was at it. </p><p>So she would just have to play it better.  </p><p> OC/SI reincarnation fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue, Pt. 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! Here we are, and I'm doing something I once swore I'd never do; Writing a SI/OC fic! But I was inspired by the multitudes of others one that I've run across and figured I'd give it a shot. So please, leave a review and let me know what you think!
> 
> As stated in the tags, there's a lot of stuff that goes down in this fic. If there's a generic warning for it, it can probably be applied here, just in case. Pretty much the only thing I can guarantee isn't going to happen is rape/non-con. Please proceed with caution, dear readers, and I hope you enjoy!

The air of the compound feels tense, like something aside from the heavy and prevalent mist hangs above it. It is stifling, dangerous, waiting to descend upon those existing there and devour them. It leaves those living in its midsts on edge, ready to snap at any moment.

It is the kind of environment Orochimaru delights in.

The people are so deliciously easy to manipulate, and it is simple for him to twist words, to charm them into doing exactly what he wishes of them without a single one being any wiser. They are puppets dancing before him, unaware of their own strings. The thought makes him smile.

He won’t have long to wait now.

He is perched upon a hill that overlooks the clan compounds, a simple genjutsu cast to keep them from noticing him. He has a perfect vantage point to watch the proceedings, and sound carries eerily well in the mist, which has yet to dissipate despite the watery sunlight. Just an hour before, the sounds of children screaming in terror and pain and of men laughing and shouting had graced his ears. Forty-five minutes after, a woman had returned from a trip into a neighboring village to buy medical supplies for her ailing mother. 

Now, he hears her scream, the sound echoing eerily across the hills and through the scarce, twisted trees. 

He licks his lips, delighted that things are falling so neatly into place already. He listens as she wails, then cries out in pain. There are the sounds of a scuffle he can only barely hear by enhancing his senses further with chakra, and he can hear the woman’s broken voice. 

Pleading. 

_Weak_. 

A silence settles. Orochimaru does not fret, though. He already knows the outcome, and he knows that he has won. All he has left to do is wait for the pawn to move.

The sun crosses the sky, sinking below the horizon and taking it’s meager warmth along with it. The moon takes her place in the star studded sky, full and brilliant, the light reflecting off the roiling mist below and turning the area into something dreamlike and sinister. His breath hangs in the air, billowing out to disappear into the rest of the white mass. He likes to imagine that his breath adds to it’s girth, turns the dream into a nightmare that will not evaporate even when the sun returns.

When the moon has reached her peak, a shadow appears, slinking along the walls outside the compound. Orochimaru watches it’s progress, takes note of the unusual bulk to what should be a slight frame and the weight that bows it’s shoulders. His smile returns, sly and cruel. 

He follows silently, at enough of a distance that he is sure he will not be noticed until the time is right. He knows that the timing must be impeccable and the situation handled delicately and with just the right words. He has been waiting for months, planning since he heard of this clan’s fascinating and powerful kekkei genkai, and pursuing these particular subjects after he learned of their unique and unusual heritage. He will not spoil this chance by being impatient. 

The moment comes after thirty minutes of continuous running when, without warning, the figure he has been following collapses. There is a moment of silence, the heavy thump of knees hitting the ground ringing through the mist and then fading away. Orochimaru waits, like a serpent poised to strike. 

A loud, horrible wailing fills the air, echoing through the night. It is the sound of a broken woman, with nothing left. It is music to his ears.

Orochimaru smiles as he steps forward into a beam of moonlight as it breaks through the clouds. 

“My child, whatever could be causing you so much pain?” he asks, voice smooth and quiet, yet sharp enough to cut through the horrendous noise that the woman is making. 

She cuts herself off with a choked sound, twisting to face him with a stilted, jerky movement. Her eyes are enormous, dark and glassy, as if reflecting the night around them. She opens her mouth, gasps, chokes on her words and her tears. Orochimaru waits while she gathers herself enough to answer.

“Orochimaru-sama, you were right,” she says, the words barely louder than a whisper, her voice hoarse and as broken as her spirit. “I thought that they were beginning to understand. I thought they were going to let me try to heal my mother, and that my daughters would be safe with her. But they...while I was gone, they—” 

She cuts herself off with a moan and slumps down, her arms wrapping tightly around herself, one hand twisted behind her to caress one of the large scrolls secured to her back. Orochimaru eyes them greedily, and he has to hide the grin that wants to stretch across his face. Instead, he adopts a mournful expression. 

“Oh, dear child, I told you that your clansmen would turn on you and yours. There was too much fear inside them. With your grandmother carrying the curse, and your children’s blood being impure, it was only a matter of time before they came for all of them.” 

She moans again, a pitiful sound. It grates on his nerves, and he resists the urge to scowl at the weakness she shows. After all, as a member of the famously bloodthirsty Kaguya clan, it seems out of place for her to crumble under something as mundane as the death of two half-breed children. 

“ _Sentiment_.” he thinks bemusedly.

Desire, fury, triumph; These are things he can understand, feelings that burn hot beneath his skin. But the sorts of things that this woman is feeling, he’s not sure he will ever truly experience. He has no desire to.

Still, it works out in his favor. If she were not so weak then she would have burned the bodies and been done with it. Instead, she has left the village in order to give them a proper burial and has given Orochimaru the chance he needs. Her face is open, full of pain and something like desperation, and he knows before he even offers that she will accept his proposal. Still, he kneels before her, looking her steadily in the face as he speaks.

“I believe that I can bring them back to you, if you will allow me to help.”

She stares at him, frozen, and a tear slips down her cheek, barely visible in the moonlight. He studies her as she processes his words, taking in the shape of her face and the curve of her neck, her large dark eyes and smooth black hair. She is a lovely woman, and he finds himself wondering idly if her children will share her beauty. It would be something of a bonus, if his plans pan out as he would like. There is something undeniably appealing about having strong, beautiful bodies available to house his soul, after all. Not only that, but if his experiments go as he hopes, they will also be hosts with rare and powerful kekkei genkai at his disposal. 

“How can you help? What do you want in return?” she asks, voice shaking, but a hint of steel beneath it. She is suspicious, and rightly so. It seems that she is not just the trembling mouse she appears to be, but that will not stop her from being his prey. 

He smiles, reaching out a hand to gently cup her cheek. “I have been developing a powerful jutsu, to pull the souls of the newly deceased back to their bodies. It is still in the experimental stages, but there is a good chance it will work. We must act quickly if we are to save your children, though.” 

She stares at him a moment longer, her eyes still wet, but suddenly brimming with hope. The only sign of her wariness is the slight crease between her brows. Her fingers twitch against the scroll again, one last caress before she brings her hands down to rest in her lap. She meets his gaze unflinchingly.

“What do you want in return, Orochimaru-sama?”

He thinks, briefly, of simply killing her then and there and taking the scrolls that her children’s corpses are sealed in from her lifeless body. It would be simple to snap her neck from this position, just a twist of the wrist. His thumb strokes carefully over the smooth skin of her cheek, the tip of his pinky pressed against the line of her jaw. He wonders if she even realizes how simple it would be for him to end her life like this.

But he still needs information from her. She is the only known relative of the last of the Shikotsumyaku users, the only one with a definitive answer on whether or not her children’s father is apart of the clan Orochimaru suspects he is, and she therefore holds information that he is unlikely to find elsewhere. So instead, he smiles. 

“I simply ask that you leave them in my care for a while afterwards so that I can study the effects and make sure that there are no flaws with my technique.”

Her expression melts into one of open relief. It might be enough to fool a lesser shinobi, but Orochimaru can still see the gleam in her eye.

He knows what her plan is; she will let him return her children to her, and then she will steal them away in the dead of night and flee to somewhere she believes is out of his reach. The thought is almost laughable. His smile grows wider, but he does not call her on her intended deceit. Instead, he offers her a hand up. 

“Are you prepared to go, then? My nearest base is half a day’s travel from here, and we must hurry if we are to bring your children back to you.”

She nods once, firm and determined, and together they set off.


	2. Prologue, Pt. 2

It takes ten hours and seven shinobi to perform the reanimation jutsu. It is still imperfect, and from what he has learned from previous experiments, it will only work on very young children who have been dead less than 36 hours. Even then, none of them have survived longer than two weeks after being brought back, their bodies empty shells that waste away slowly without a soul to sustain them. Still, even if he only has their living bodies for a week, it would be more than enough time to learn many things from these children, and to learn more of the effects of two unique bloodlines joining together.

Orochimaru has been tweaking the process with each experiment, making it better, perfecting it. It is not the immortality or the knowledge that he craves, but it is a step forward. It fascinates and thrills him, to hold this kind of power, to hold life as well as death in the palm of his hand. 

It takes the chakra of five jounin level shinobi to reach out and return life to the two tiny forms laying at the center of the intricate seal. There are two medics crouched beside them, hands glowing green as they work to heal what ended the children’s lives and to reverse the decomposition that has already begun within the bodies. It is grueling work, and he has lost more than one strong shinobi to the process already. Still, he forges ahead and the shinobi loyal to him follow diligently in his wake. After all, the lives of pawns are a small price to pay in the pursuit of knowledge and immortality.

They are nearing the final stretch when one of the tiny bodies jolts upwards with a horrible noise, something caught between a scream and a gasp, full of immense pain and the terror of death. The other one is only seconds behind, and the two cries seem to harmonize and intensify, the sound echoing off the walls. It reverberates and distorts, unlike anything any of the shinobi in the room have ever heard. 

The medics crouched by their sides do not stop their work. 

Orochimaru moves forward, eyes hungry. Nothing like this has ever happened before, which means that something is different this time around. Three of the shinobi before him flinch back, eyes wide, and the barrier that has been erected around the seal falters. 

Orochimaru promises to kill them for it later.

It is then that the mother, who had been watching the process silently and demurely, rushes forwards. His frown deepens. He had spoken with her earlier as Kabuto had examined the bodies and gathered as much medical history and clan secrets as possible, and he had only agreed to allow her to be present for the process after she had sworn to not interfere and sternly told him that she would reveal everything she knew about her clan, the children’s father, and the kekkei genkai afterwards, but only if she was able to be there while her children were brought back. 

Now, she pushes past the powerful shinobi that stand in her way as if they are nothing, as if they are not willing and able to kill her with a single blow. It is almost admirable.

As she rushes into the circle, her foot smudges a single character, and Orochimaru snarls. The idiotic little girl has just ruined months of work with a single step, plans that he will be hard pressed to recreate with subjects and bloodlines that will be near impossible to find again. For that, her death will be slow and excruciating, a thousand times worse than whatever agony she felt upon discovering her only children’s bodies.

He is already labeling this experiment as a loss, with the seal ruined and fading and the concentration lost so close to the end, when something catches his eye. 

There is a strange light swimming through the air above their heads, ethereal and barely noticeable. He watches it as it moves in erratic circles, tighter and tighter, until it converges on the two screaming figures in the center of the seal. The single trickle of light breaks off into two distinct shapes, two distinct colors of the like he has never seen before and will later find he cannot quite recall, and then they fall upon the screaming corpses. 

A sudden silence falls as the children go limp. The jutsu ends, and his men either collapse where they stand or else fall back to rest against the walls, hands hovering at their weapons pouches. The medics stay where they are until the last of the glow fades away, then move back when the mother approaches.

There is a long moment of heavy quiet, filled only by the controlled breathing of trained fighters readying themselves for whatever comes next. Not even the mother dares to speak as she kneels by her children, hands fluttering helplessly. 

Then, with two almighty, rasping gasps that echo eerily off the walls, both of the bodies arch upwards, bending at horrific, painful angles, mouths and eyes wide open. Their mother lets out a quiet cry of her own, reaching out to grasp at them and to run soothing hands over their figures in an attempt to stop the awful contorting. There are tears running down her cheeks, dripping onto the children’s chests and necks. 

“Please,” she whispers. “Please come back to me.”

There is no movement for a long moment, the room as quiet and still as the grave that was robbed of the children’s bodies. Then slowly, painfully, the bodies begin to unbend, limbs relaxing and backs coming to rest upon the ground. A sob spills from between the woman’s lips. One of the children stirs, eyes fluttering, a quiet moan pulled from between dry lips. 

The mother sobs again and Orochimaru moves forward with silent steps, close enough that he can easily hear every whispered word the woman breaths. She is cradling both of the children’s heads in her lap, hands moving gently through their hair and over their faces. The child who has awoken is mumbling, the words slurred so badly he can’t make out anything coherent. Suddenly, the woman falls silent, her lips pursing as she gazes into her child’s face. 

“Her eyes are different,” she murmurs, no real emotion behind the words. She tears her eyes away from the two children to look up at Orochimaru, head tilted to the side. “Why have her eyes changed color, Orochimaru-sama?”

He kneels beside them, taking the child’s face into his own hands, wanting to see for himself just what this experiment has wrought. She gazes somewhere beyond him, eyes unfocused as she continues her incoherent mumbling. Her tiny hand finds the sleeve of his kimono and she holds it tight, the fabric bunching in her fist. He notes the way that the mother stiffens as the material wrinkles, but he pays it no mind. 

Carefully, he tilts the child’s face this way and that, squinting down at the eyes, which are now as green as Fire Country leaves, instead of the black they had been before. He can see no other changes, though.

He hums thoughtfully, then leans over to examine the second child, peeling one eyelid back. The child moans quietly, eye rolling, but it is easy to see the ocean blue color, bright despite the relative darkness of the room. 

A smirk pulls at the corners of his mouth. _How interesting._

“Kabuto, would you kindly take these children to the medical bay for their checkups?” Orochimaru calls, his voice soft and lilting, yet seeming to echo throughout the large room. Kabuto appears immediately, along with four other medic-nins to transport them.

As the mother rises to follow, Orochimaru grabs her wrist and smiles. “While they are doing that, please follow me. I would like to further discuss your clan’s medical history, and how that may affect your children and their future.”

Her eyes flash, steel behind her tears, but she nods. Together they leave the room. The shinobi are already cleaning up. She pauses outside the door, watching as her children are carted in the opposite direction. He pretends to be oblivious to the way she takes careful note of which room they disappear into and of the medics that linger outside the door. 

She will be making her move sooner than later.

He smiles as he turns away. 

After another brief instant of hesitation, she follows after him, each of her steps echoing noisily along the corridor. He is very curious indeed, to see how her plans will play out. After all, despite being a mediocre shinobi at best, she is still a Kaguya clan member. She would not harm the children that had just been returned to her, but her bloodlust would surely take over. He would get to witness some entertainment, and he would get the prize of two young children with the bloodlines of two powerful clans to mold and experiment on to his heart’s content. It is a win-win scenario.

He looks forward to seeing how much blood the woman will leave in her wake, before he kills her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, just as a preemptive strike, I'm going to put this out there now -- I know that later on, Orochimaru has an actual zombie-making reanimation jutsu. However, this takes place before that on the timeline. Since people seemed shocked the first time he used it in Konoha, I'm assuming that when he left the village he didn't know it. So in the meantime he's been experimenting and trying to work out his own way to bring people back. This is the result. 
> 
> So, as always, thank you for reading and please let me know what you think!


	3. A Series of Awakenings

Waking up was agony. It felt like every cell in her body had been set aflame and like her head was seconds away from imploding. When she opened her eyes, everything seemed to spin dangerously and her stomach heaved as though she were about to throw up. Bile burned in the back of her throat, but nothing made it’s way up. She moaned. 

It was only then that she noticed the blurry face looming above her. She blinked, trying to focus, but everything was too far away. She wondered where her glasses had gone.

(But no, wait. That wasn’t right. She didn’t wear glasses. Even if she had needed them, there was no way her mama would be able to afford any. She was too young to be worried about such things.)

She tried again to focus, blinking rapidly, eyes darting even when she tried to keep them still. The person above her had dark hair and familiar features, lips dyed red beneath a small nose. Her dark eyes seemed to glisten.

“Mom? Mom, it hurts! What’s going on? What happened?” she tried to say, but the words felt strange on her tongue. They came out slurred, mangled. She realized she wasn’t sure what language she was speaking. That was...unusual, to say the least.

Then it hit her; Her mother was colorful and sturdy, not monochrome and waifish. How could she have gotten that wrong?

She tried to pull away, to raise a hand, to do anything at all, but she couldn’t even manage to make a single finger twitch. The woman was crying, she realized. 

“What happened?” she tried to ask again, fear churning in her gut. After all, one didn’t wake up in pain like this with their mother _(no, no, it’s a stranger!)_ crying over them. “Was there an accident? Why does it hurt so much?” Again, the words came out mangled and unrecognizable. 

She tried to recall what had happened before. 

She had gotten off work, late, after midnight. She had been walking back home, passing by a gas station right off the main street. It was quiet and warm, a breeze tugging at her hair, and the smell of gasoline had hung heavy in the air. It had felt peaceful despite the late hour, and she had smiled at the woman who had been filling her car up as she passed. There was the glow of headlights as another car had driven by. She had been lost in thought, going over the finances for the month and wondering how much her next paycheck would be. She had heard the screech of brakes, then nothing.

But no, that wasn’t right, was it? 

The last thing she remembered was fear. The men had found them while they were playing in one of the training grounds. She had grabbed her sister’s hand and they had run for it, knowing that as soon as they got home their grandmother would protect them. But the men were big, and they were fast, and they had fallen upon her and her sister and they had hit them and kicked them. Everything hurt, and the taste of blood had filled her mouth, and there were bones breaking through her skin. She had looked at her sister and seen her lying there, blood beneath her head and one of her eyes gone. Then someone had kicked her in the face, and she had heard her nose crunch, and then everything was gone. 

She tried to tell the woman what had happened, both last memories mixing up and the story coming out as jumbled as her speech. She felt cool hands against her face, and her vision whirled as a new face came into view. This one was as pale as any ghost, made up of sharp angles and glowing eyes. 

“Am I dead?”

There was no response. 

He turned to the woman _(mama?)_ and spoke. She couldn’t make it out. His voice was rasping, yet somehow soothing. She didn’t fight the urge to close her eyes and to let herself be carried away by sleep. 

A moment that somehow also felt like a thousand years passed, and suddenly the world around her jolted. Eyes she hadn’t even realized she’d closed flew open. She felt hands on her, gentle yet methodical and uncaring as they maneuvered her and then lifted her. 

There were people dressed all in white, and she felt herself relax just a little. These people were medics--doctors. They would help and they would make the horrible, mind-numbing pain go away. If she could have, she would have cried from the sheer rush of relief she felt at the thought. Instead, she let herself drift as she was moved. It was so much easier, all of a sudden. 

.

When she next opened her eyes, she found that it was easier to move. Her nerves still felt like they were all on fire, and it seemed like there was an immense pressure building up just under her skin. She shuddered, took a deep breath, and tried again to move.

Her fingers all moved, though not much more than twitches. She was able to wiggle her toes, shift her weight ever so slightly to roll her hips and lift her legs. Everything felt distant and disconnected from her, but at least she knew for sure that she wasn’t paralyzed or something. Maybe just really drugged up? 

She managed to shift her head, letting it loll to the side without much control. The action made the room spin around her and she found lazy curses rolling from her lips along with a pained groan. She blinked slowly, squinted, and when the world came into focus she found herself face-to-face with something that made her heart pound harder and her skull feel like it was being split in two.

Lying across from her, just within her short range of sight, was her sister. 

_Elle_ -Hiroko-Elle- _Hiroko_ - **-sister- _sister-her sister, her little sistersistersister!_**

_Her sister._

She gasped, and the name didn’t matter right now, because that was her baby sister lying across from her. She was different, years younger, features foreign, but it was undeniably Elle. Yet it was also somehow just like she remembered her twin from before the villagers had chased them. She was pale and asleep, but unhurt. Her heart seemed to swell, because Hiroko was okay! 

A choking noise, somewhere between a laugh and a sob, filled the room. It took a second for the girl to realize that she was the one making it. She didn’t bother trying to stop herself like she normally would, far too overwhelmed by emotion to worry about anyone seeing her cry. She wasn’t really sure what had happened, or how they were here, but they were both alive! 

In that moment, that was more than enough.

.

The world was running strangely around her. She wasn’t sure how much time had passed when she opened her eyes again. This time, she wasn’t in quite as much pain, which probably meant that whatever drugs she was on were probably working. 

This time, there was someone standing over her. She was too exhausted to even feel surprised by it.

She squinted up at them, trying to make out features besides silver hair and pale skin. They were dressed in dark clothes, which...was that unusual for a doctor or nurse? She hadn’t really spent a lot of time in hospitals before.

“Ah, I see that you’re awake. How are you feeling?” 

His voice was soft and kind. But there was something off, like an echo, or two voices overlayed over one another. She could understand him perfectly but there was a part of her mind that was insisting that she couldn’t speak the same language he was. She swallowed a few times, trying to bring feeling back into her tongue before she spoke.

“I’m...I hurt. A lot. But it’s feeling better.”

Her voice was pitched higher than she was used to, higher than it had been since she’d hit puberty. She frowned and cleared her throat. 

The smudge that was the man’s mouth curved up into a smile. “Good, I’m very glad to hear that. Can you tell me your name?” 

“I’m Kaguya Mayuri, sir. And my sister is named Hiroko,” she answered, the names falling easily from her lips. As soon as she had said them, though, she had to pause and think, because no, her name was Avery and her sister was Elle. The man’s gentle voice snapped her back to reality.

“That’s very good, Mayuri-chan. Can you tell me how you feel right now?”

She considered his words, rolling her thoughts around in her head like glass marbles in a jar. She felt like her mind was strangely breakable, and the thoughts inside it would be what shattered her. She wasn’t sure which voice inside her head would break first.

“I feel like everything is on fire. I’m dizzy and my head and everything else hurts, and it feels like there’s something moving under my skin.” 

The words sounded strange to her. They rolled off her tongue easily, she had been speaking this language all her life, yet somehow they seemed to rebel within her own head like she was trying to listen in on a conversation in a foreign language. 

The man made a sympathetic noise, then reached forward to grasp her wrist, fingers pressed gently against her pulse point. He frowned. A distant part of her marveled at how large his hand was compared to her own, but she was mostly concerned with the fact that he was grabbing a part of her that she was fairly certain needed to be in a cast. 

His hand moved to rest against her throat instead, his touch feather-light against her pulse. After a moment, he nodded and said, “Well, all of your vitals are checking out. You seem to be very healthy, all things considered,” he flashed her a smile. “The pain should go away soon, so don’t worry.”

“How’s my sister?”

“Oh, she seems to be doing fine. She hasn’t woken up yet, but that’s not really unusual.”

Mayuri felt tears prick at her eyes as a smile stretched her cheeks and made her face burn from the movement. Her voice cracked when she whispered, “I’m glad she’s alright.”

“Yes, you were both very lucky,” the man returned, smile still in place. Something about it felt off. Mayuri wondered if maybe they were dying after all, and he just didn’t know how to tell her. “Now, I have a few question for you. Is that alright?” He waited until she had nodded her ascent before continuing. “Has your mother ever spoken of your father?”

That was not the question she had been expecting. She had figured he would ask about medical history, or who to contact for them. Besides that, their parents were still together, so of course she talked about him. It didn’t make any sense to be asking that.

But maybe that wasn’t right. Mayuri paused, brow crinkling as she tried to sift through memories. She had never met her father and had never really wanted to. She wasn’t sure where she had gotten the thought that she had a father.

The idea of her mind conjuring up false memories scared and confused her. She swallowed a few times, trying to rid herself of the lump in her throat, and carefully considered. Her mother had spoken of the mystery man who had sired them a few times, hadn’t she?

“Mama’s proud of who he is,” she began slowly, and the man shifted a little closer so he could hear her quiet voice. His blurred features came more into focus, and she was surprised to see how young he was. “He’s somebody strong and she said that she had wanted him to give her strong sons but then he gave her strong daughters instead. Me and Hiroko!”

The man nodded, smile never faltering, and the dim lights reflected off his glasses. “Did she ever tell you what clan he was from, or what made him so strong?”

“She just said that my papa had a curse, just like my granny does, so he would be strong too,” she frowned. “But I never met him so I think that my mama is probably a lot stronger than him, because why else would he want to hide from her?”

He quirked an eyebrow. “Hide? Why do you think he’s hiding from her?”

“Well, why else would he not come back? She must have been angry at him so he ran away and hid.” Here, she lowered her voice to a reverent whisper, as though afraid her mother would pop up any second. “My mama’s very scary when she’s angry.”

“Ah, I see. Is there anything else your mother has said about him?”

“I think she said he liked snow one time, but I wasn’t really listening,” Mayuri admitted.

“That does sound confusing,” he said in the tone of one humoring a child. Mayuri frowned, thoughts swimming again. She’d used that same tone many time before, hadn’t she? 

“I have one more question for you; have you or your sister ever shown any signs of having one of these...curses?” 

Mayuri thought it over carefully, brow scrunching. Then, she shook her head, sending the room spinning once more.

This close, she could see the way the man’s mouth curved and the glint in his eyes. Mayuri felt a shiver roll down her spine as his hand dropped to rest gently on the crown of her head, mussing her hair. “You did very good, Mayuri-chan. Thank you for being so helpful.”

Mayuri nodded, a little stunned. Was that really all he wanted to know? 

“Hey, mister medic? When will she come and see us?”

His smile remained firmly in place, but there was no warmth in his eyes as he said, “Your mother is very busy right now. You’ll see her later.”

“Oh. Why though? What’s she doing?”

“Don’t worry about it right now. You need your rest.” 

His hand suddenly felt pleasantly warm upon her brow, her headache dissipating under his touch. She nodded, eyelids suddenly heavy and her mind foggy with exhaustion. The man smiled as he turned to go. 

He was almost to the door when Mayuri called out to him. 

“You never told me your name.”

He turned towards her again, and from that distance she couldn’t tell what sort of an expression he wore as he said, “You can call me Kabuto.”

And then he was gone. The room fell dark, and Mayuri gladly surrendered to the urge to sleep away the pain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so I know that this is all sort of confusing and disjointed, but that's because I'm trying to get what's going on in Mayuri's mind across. Things are super messed up there for her. She's confused, and has multiple sets of memories and two minds dancing around up there. As such, things are sort of strange and all mixed up. She goes through periods where she's one or the other, but not yet both. So just bear with me while she sorts her shit out.
> 
> That said, thank you for reading! If you have any questions, comments, or concerns, just let me know!


	4. Play Pretend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their mother's plans for a better life fall through.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, here's chapter 2! Some darker stuff will start happening in this chapter, so be warned. From here on in it starts getting darker and there's going to be more sensitive subject matter in coming chapters, as well. (Panic attacks, torture, death, mental illness, etc.) Proceed with caution, dear readers!
> 
> On a lighter note, in case anyone hasn't noticed, I'm really terrible at chapter titles. So they are subject to change and I'm also open to suggestions if anyone has any.
> 
> Please enjoy, and let me know what you think!

Mayuri jolted awake as she was pulled out of bed. She cried out, only to have a hand pressed over her mouth. She stared up at the person who had grabbed her and it took her a second to realize that she was staring at her mother.

(It was her mother, wasn’t it?)

Slowly, the hand was removed, and her mother signaled for her to be quiet. Mayuri nodded, though her eyes were wide with confusion and concern. The smile that she received in return filled her with dread; It was the same one that her mother had given them when she told them that their granny was sick but would get better soon, or when she promised them she’d get them a new puppy after the villagers killed their other one.

“Everything will be alright,” she promised, and there was something pinched and painful in her voice and expression. 

“Mama, what’s going on?” Mayuri whispered, reaching out to grab her mother’s hand and squeezing it tight. 

“Nothing. We’re just going to be leaving soon,” she whispered back, fingers trembling as they tightened their grip around Mayuri’s hand. Her smile grew just a little bit brighter, and Mayuri let herself relax a little. “I was thinking we could leave the Compound, and maybe leave the Land of Water all together. How does the Land of Waterfalls sound to you? I hear it’s warm enough to go swimming all year round there.” 

A hand was clapped over her mouth once more as Mayuri started to let out a whoop of excitement. Again, her mother gestured for her to be quiet. 

“Oops. Sorry, mama,” she mumbled, voice muffled under the soft hand that left her mouth stinging with the force of it. 

“It’s alright, baby. We’re going to leave now, but I need you to stay very _very_ quiet while we go, okay? Pretend you’re a kunoichi on a special mission. Can you do that for me?”

Mayuri nodded enthusiastically, and was pleased to find that her head didn’t hurt anymore. 

With a smile, her mother turned away, pulling her hand from the girl’s grasp. With the loss of contact, Mayuri swayed a little. The world around her seemed far too big. She leaned backwards to rest against the bed she had been on and was surprised to find that it was almost taller than she was. She couldn’t seem to recall if that was normal or not. 

Her mother turned back around, Hiroko balanced on one hip, and quickly swept Mayuri up as well. The girl made a soft noise of surprise, throwing her arms around her mother’s neck and wrapping her legs around her waist. She was delighted to be picked up, but also confused. Wasn’t she far too heavy to be carried around like this? Across from her, she could only just see half her sister’s face, smooshed up against their mother’s shoulder, her eyes still closed. Still, the sight filled her with warmth.

“You sister is still asleep, Mayuri,” their mother whispered as she moved towards the door, her footsteps silent. “I need you to make sure she doesn’t fall, and if anything happens, I want you to protect her. Do you understand?”

“What’s gonna happen?”

“Nothing, sweetheart. It’s going to be alright. I just need you to promise me you’ll take care of your sister, just in case.”

“I promise, mama,” she mumbled, reaching further to grasp at Hiroko’s shirt, hoping that if her sister fell, she’d be able to catch her that way. 

“Good. Now, I need you to close your eyes, and don’t open them until I tell you to.”

“Why?”

“It’s part of the game, baby. Just close your eyes for me. If you open them before I tell you you can, it will mess up the mission.” 

Mayuri nodded, tightened her grip on Hiroko’s shirt, and buried her face in her mother’s shoulder, eyes squeezed tightly shut. 

There was the quiet swish of the door being opened, and she had to resist the urge to gag at the sudden overwhelming smell that hit her. The tang of iron hung heavy in the back of her throat, mixed with the smell of feces and sweat. She knew this smell. After a second, she realized what it meant.

She had seen her Clansmen when they came back from battle, covered in blood and filling the streets of the clan compound with the same smell that fills her nose and mouth now. She shuddered, pressing her face closer, trying to block out the scent with her mother’s familiar one. She smelled more sour than usual, sweat dried on the collar of her shirt. Still, it was comforting and familiar, and it made it easier to ignore the fact that there were definitely dead bodies all around them.

She hid her face in her mother’s shoulder, kept her eyes squeezed shut, and held on to Hiroko as tightly as she could manage. She trusted her mother to keep her safe and to know what’s best, but there was still something niggling at the back of her mind. Something about this seemed so strange, so wrong. It wasn’t just the dead bodies, or the way her mother seemed so on edge. It felt like there was something watching them, hanging over them the same way the mist once did, just waiting for a single misstep so that it could jump in and do something awful. 

She was used to the feeling, of course. She had dealt with it her whole life, coming from her fellow clansmen, the ones who felt that only pureblooded Kaguya clan members should have been allowed to stay in the compound. She had no doubt that her mother was able to feel it too, since she was often subjected to scathing comments and heated glares and the occasional outright fight over her decision to have children with someone outside of the clan. She thinks, that if her granny were here, she’d know just what to do. As someone who was cursed their whole lives, Mayuri knew that her granny would probably be the best at sensing such bad things in the air and would know just how to take care of it. She had heard the things people whispered about the cursed members of the Kaguya clan, and how they weren’t to be associated with outside of battles.

She had never said anything to her mother, of course; it was always obvious that she didn’t want them to know. She was young, but Mayuri wasn’t stupid and she wasn’t deaf, so of course she could see the nasty looks and hear the mean comments, and every time her mother came home with another bruise and blood under her nails was more proof that their family were outliers within their own clan. The fact that their clansmen were more than happy to let granny die of disease was just frosting on the cake. 

The way they had attacked Hiroko and her had only served to prove that they would never belong. 

Her fingers tightened further on her sister’s shirt. She still wasn’t really sure what had happened, and how it was that they were both okay. She had been so sure, while those men were chasing them and hurting them, that they would both die. She had _seen_ the way her sister’s face had been mutilated and she had felt as her own features were smashed and kicked until she was sure that she should have been unrecognizable. 

That was probably what the people who had attacked them had been aiming for, anyways. They didn’t look exactly like their clansmen did, but they still shared many similarities. Those men had probably wanted to put an end to that.

Mayuri realized she was trembling. Taking a deep breath, as quietly as she could, she tried to calm herself. She was being silly now. They were going to be alright, and they were going to leave and never return to the compound. Mama said so. Things were going to be better. She just had to believe that they would be.

She felt her mother’s hand on her back, rubbing it soothingly. Mayuri smiled and nuzzled her face further into her shoulder, inhaling deeply again. She tried to ground herself to the moment, the familiar smell of her mother, of home, the feeling of Hiroko’s shirt, the way she was always so much warmer that Mayuri herself was. Even now, she could feel the heat, like a sauna beneath her fingertips. It was comforting.

Things would be alright.

“We’re almost out,” her mother breathed, the sound barely reaching Mayuri’s ears, despite how close she was. The promise and the hope was apparent in her mother’s quiet voice as she said, “We’re going to make it, baby. Don’t worry.” 

Then, of course, everything crumbled around them.

She heard her mother take a sharp intake of breath and felt as she stumbled, her nails suddenly digging into Mayuri’s back. The girl muffled her whimper of pain in her mother’s shoulder, squeezing her eyes shut and trying to ignore the surge of curiosity that made her want to open her eyes to find out what happened. Mayuri tried to hold on tighter to both her mother and sister, trying to ignore the pain of her mother’s grip, of the fingernails digging into her skin, even through her shirt. 

Her mother stumbled, lurching enough that Mayuri was afraid she might be dropped. There was a second of silence. Everything was still. Then, without warning, they were moving, her mother running so fast that Mayuri struggled to keep her grip. There was an odd shift in momentum that made her stomach twist, bile clawing it’s way up her throat. Mayuri felt her mother’s hair brush her face, and her own heavy braid was hanging sideways. Were they on the wall? 

Her mother screamed and Mayuri’s blood ran cold at the sound. She felt as she stumbled and Mayuri’s stomach lurched into her throat at the sudden sensation of weightlessness. 

They fell, and the girl couldn’t help the cry of pain as they hit the ground, her head bouncing off the stone floor. Blood filled her mouth as she bit her tongue and she sputtered, red globules dripping down her chin and further staining her mother’s shirt. She opened her eyes.

“Mama, what’s happening?” 

“Mayuri, take your sister and run,” she whispered, shifting Mayuri off her hip and standing up, straight and tall. The girl stumbled backwards, blinking up at her mother with wide, scared eyes. Hiroko’s limp form was hoisted into her arms, and her knees almost buckled with the weight of her twin. 

“What do you mean? I—I thought we were going to all leave together!”

Her mother whirled on her, dark eyes wild. Mayuri flinched back, noticing for the first time the blood that was congealed along her hairline. “Shut up! Just do as I say! Take Hiroko and run!” 

Tears welled in the girl’s eyes, but she turned, struggling to pull her sister’s limp form along with her. Her mother’s heavy breathing filled the hallway, rattling in Mayuri’s head and filling her with panic. She had never heard her mother sound so scared, or so fierce. She struggled to move faster. 

“How noble,” a new voice said. A raspy laugh echoed throughout the space, and something about the sound was enough to raise goosebumps along Mayuri’s flesh. 

“Don’t touch them! Leave us alone!” her mother cried. Mayuri paused, turning to see who her mother was talking to, cradling Hiroko’s limp form to her chest. Her sister was as warm as ever, and her breaths ghosted over Mayuri’s neck, the only signs that she was even alive. 

A man stood in the hallway, his arms crossed over his chest. He wore a white kimono, only a bare shade lighter than his chalky skin, and his hair was a long ebony color. In the flickering shadows of the torchlight, his blurry form seemed ethereal and ghostlike to Mayuri. She gaped as he tutted, raising a hand to shake a finger in her mother’s direction. 

“I do believe we had a bargain, Kaguya-san.” His voice was quiet and mocking, yet it seemed to hold more weight and authority than anyone else Mayuri had ever heard speak, even the clan head. “Do you know what the punishment is for breaking such a promise?” 

Her mother was shaking. When she turned to look back at her daughters, there were tears streaming down her cheeks. She smiled again, that same awful smile from before. “Hiroko. Mayuri. Please, just—”

Blood splattered the walls. Mayuri felt it hit her cheek, felt it on her chapped lips. She whimpered, and as she opened her mouth to cry out, the taste of it danced across her tongue. She found, suddenly, that she didn’t have enough air left to scream.

Her mother collapsed. Her head rolled towards them, coming to rest at her children’s feet. Her eyes were still open, and they seemed to be staring straight at Mayuri. 

The girl scrambled backwards, pulling Hiroko along with her. Her knees couldn’t seem to support her weight for more than a few steps and she collapsed, still cradling her sister close to her, making sure her head was turned away from the grisly sight. But she couldn’t look away from the dark eyes. Was that really her mama? 

_(No, no it’s not._ Something inside of her whispered. _Mom’s back at home. She’s alright. This is a stranger, just a stranger.)_

She was shaking. Shaking so badly she could barely keep a hold on her sister. The ghost was coming closer, stepping over her mother’s body like it was nothing. He trailed blood after him. Mayuri couldn’t bring herself to look away from her mother’s dark, empty eyes. They were still wet with tears. 

The ghost knelt before her, and he took her chin in his hand, leaving behind a streak of blood. Her head was jerked sharply, forcing her gaze away from the head and towards the ghost’s own face. He was smiling, golden eyes glowing in the dim light. There was something strangely familiar about his features, like something from a half remembered dream. She couldn’t tear her eyes away. His smile grew wider and she couldn’t seem to find the strength to scream.

“Do you wish to die today, child?” he asked, his voice soft, soothing, like he hadn’t just slaughtered her mother right in front of her. She couldn’t stop trembling. His eyes slipped from her face, down towards Hiroko, who had only just begun to twitch in her lap. 

“Do you wish for your sister to die, perhaps?”

“No, please!” she gasped, pulling her sister closer, as though that could somehow protect them from this monster. Her voice was shaking, barely audible as she sobbed, “Please, sir. Please don’t hurt her! I’ll do anything you want.” 

His eyes flickered back towards Mayuri. He licked his lips. Mayuri’s eyes welled with tears at last, thoughts that did not belong to a four year old running through her head, going through every outcome, each more hopeless and horrific than the last. She squeezed her sister who, at last, began to stir. 

The ghost’s eyes moved back towards Hiroko.

“I see the effects of the jutsu have finally began to wear off,” he murmured. “She did not take to it as well as you did.”

He reached out, as if to take her. Mayuri jerked back, glaring, her eyes wide and wild. 

“Don’t you touch her! Don’t you dare fucking touch her!” the words seemed to come unbidden, and as soon as she had screamed them, it hit her that this man could kill her just as easily as he had killed her mother. She squeezed her eyes shut and buried her face in Hiroko’s hair, waiting for a blow that didn’t come. 

The ghost chuckled, and she heard the rustling of fabric as he stood. “Very well then, child. Come along. I trust that you understand that if you disobey me, you and your sister will both die.”

Mayuri raised her head to stare at the man. He loomed above them, larger than life. She knew that he would not hesitate to kill them. She nodded and struggled to her feet. In her arms, Hiroko groaned, twisting in her grip and nearly causing Mayuri to drop her. She opened her eyes, and somehow the sight of blue eyes staring up at her was at once utterly shocking and totally expected. 

(Her eyes had been black before, hadn’t they? Or had they always been blue? Suddenly, she wasn’t sure.)

“Don’t look, Hiro. Go back to sleep,” she whispered, trying to blink away the tears that were further blurring her vision. Her sister gazed up at her with bleary eyes, so trusting, unaware of the fact that their mother lay dead a mere meter away, unaware that her life was being bartered with at that very moment. Mayuri’s lips trembled and her voice cracked as she whispered again, “Go back to sleep.” 

Hiroko reached up, her fingers tracing curiously through the blood on Mayuri’s cheek. She looked perplexed, brow creased with confusion, eyes bright with worry. 

“You’re hurt.”

“No, it’s not mine. Please go back to sleep. _Please._ ” 

Hiroko’s eyelids seemed to be growing heavy again. She blinked a few times, eyes unfocused, before nodding. She turned to nuzzle further into her sister’s hold before going limp once more. Mayuri heaved a sigh of relief, but the breath caught on a sob somewhere in her throat. She wanted to wipe away the wetness on her cheeks, but didn’t dare let go of her sister. 

The ghost had been watching the exchange, his face expressionless. “Come along now.” 

And he turned and began to walk down the hall, stepping carelessly over her mother once more. Mayuri was suddenly painfully aware of her bare feet, and of the fact that the blood had already pooled across the width of the hall. 

She shifted Hiroko onto her back, bent double so that she wouldn’t fall. Taking a deep breath, she trudged forwards, skirting the wall to avoid having to step over her mother’s body. She did her best not to look, but couldn’t ignore the way that warm blood squished between her toes. She gagged, acid burning her throat and tears stinging her eyes. The smell of blood seemed overwhelming, filling her senses, making it impossible to breath. Her legs were trembling from exertion already.

“Hurry,” the ghost snapped. 

She shuffled a little faster, trying to focus on the weight of Hiroko on her back, the feeling of her gentle breathing against her shoulder. She pretended that she wasn’t leaving a trail of bloody footsteps behind her with every step. She ignored everything around her besides the warmth of Hiroko at her back and the man leading her towards an uncertain fate. 

There was blood on the hem of his kimono.

She jerked her eyes up, focusing on the center of his back instead and letting her mind go blank. She allowed herself to drift, mechanically putting one foot in front of the other, pausing only to readjust Hiroko’s limp form to ensure she didn’t fall off. It was easier if she just allowed herself to not be truly present for this. 

She could cope. 

She had to.

She was so focused on feeling nothing that she didn’t notice that someone had come up behind her until she felt Hiroko being lifted from her back. 

Mayuri screeched, whirling back to face the person, already lunging forward and prepared to attack with tooth and nail to get her sister back. Her hands closed around the person’s wrist, nails drawing blood. Before she could do anything more, though, she was being lifted up, her arms pinned to her sides. 

She screamed again – a shrill, animalistic sound – and thrashed wildly against the tight hold, trying to break free. She twisted, teeth gnashing as she attempted to find a way to hurt whoever it was that had taken her sister away. There was nothing she could do, though. Her tiny body simply could not reach. 

Eventually, she went limp, chest heaving with each breath. In her peripheral she could see someone kneel down so they were on her level. 

“Mayuri-chan,” a familiar voice said. “We’re not going to hurt your sister. Will you be calm if we put you down?” 

She turned her head to look at him. The doctor from earlier was staring at her intently, his grey eyes narrowed behind his round glasses. A strand of hair fell across her face, obscuring her vision. She hoped it hid the tears in her eyes.

Mayuri blew it away before she nodded slowly, terrified out of her mind but not knowing what else to do. She was lowered to the ground and turned to face the person who had been holding her. It was a woman, tall and heavyset, dressed all in grey with a mask over her face. Next to her was another person, their face also covered, and in their arms was Hiroko. 

“I want my sister back. You can’t have her,” Mayuri rasped, holding her arms out expectantly. The two people shared a look before the woman snorted, the cloth covering the bottom half of her face billowing. 

“She weighs as much as you do, kid. You could barely hold her.”

Mayuri stomped one foot on the ground, feeling a scream building once more like some unbearable pressure filling her chest. She beat it down, doing her best to hide her fear and frustration with cold fury. “Give her back. _Now._ ”

“Mayuri-chan, you’re tired and hurting. It’s been a long day, hasn’t it?” The doctor was speaking, his voice soft and soothing. 

(It was the voice of someone speaking to a child. Why did they keep using it on her?)

“It would be easier to allow someone else to carry Hiroko for a little while, don’t you think? We can get the two of you fed and you can take a bath, and after you’re done we can talk. How does that sound?”

Mayuri didn’t take her eyes off her sister. “Are you going to kill us, too?”

“Of course not!” Kabuto declared, sounding so affronted it was laughable. 

“He killed our mama. Why not us?” 

Kabuto sighed, his eyes flickering over to where the ghost stood outside of Mayuri’s line of sight. He looked strangely put upon. “Your mother broke a promise. She knew what the penalty was for that.”

Mayuri said nothing. Her hands were shaking. From the corner of her eye, she saw Kabuto reach for her. She flinched away, scared of the thought of him touching her. She turned to glare at him, finally breaking her gaze away from her sister in the process. Kabuto was smiling, and in the flickering torchlight it looked more menacing than comforting. She wondered vaguely if he realized that. 

She tore her gaze away, back towards Hiroko, only to find that she and the woman who had been holding her were both gone. She stared at the spot they had been, eyes wide and jaw slack as panic surged inside her. Her breaths were coming faster, her heart pounding so hard it felt as though it might be about to burst from her chest. She couldn’t lose Hiroko. She just couldn’t.

She whirled, eyes darting along the hallway for any sign of them. There was nothing. No figures fading into the gloom or echoing footsteps. Not even a doorway they could have disappeared into. 

Her eyes fell upon the ghost. He was smiling, wide and eerie, like his face might split open any second. His eyes were alight, amused by her panic. 

He was laughing at this situation, laughing at tearing her family apart and at the way she was falling to pieces right in front of his eyes.

Something inside of her seemed to snap. 

Screaming, she charged the ghost. He didn’t move and his smile never faltered. If anything, she might have said it only grew wider. 

“GIVE HER BACK TO ME! GIVE HER BACK OR I’LL—I’LL—” 

He caught her by the hair, long fingers tangling in the black strands and jerking her back. She choked on her scream, neck bent back at a painful angle, but still she fought her way towards him. Her short, chubby arms reached for him, her fingers curled into claws. She wanted, more than anything, to bite and claw at him, to rip him to pieces and see his blood splattered across the walls. Just like he had done to her mother.

She bit back a sob, trying to turn it into another battle cry. It came out as a pathetic little moan instead. More tears slipped down her cheeks, making tracks through the blood and grime. Her hands twisted through the air as she strained against his hold, hair coming free from her scalp in bloodied clumps. No matter how much she pulled, though, she never seemed to be able to get any closer to him. 

The ghost tutted, the way he had before he had killed her mother. Mayuri sobbed again, gnashing her teeth in hopes of sinking them into the pale forearm that hovered above her, just out of reach. 

“If you do not calm down, child, I will order your sister to be killed immediately,” he hissed, and then chuckled when Mayuri stilled immediately. “Very good. Even if you are a bastard child, I see you still carry the bloodlust of your clan.” 

“What do you want from me?” Mayuri whispered, ignoring his words and the way they made her stomach twist with apprehension. The hand in her hair loosened it’s grip, allowing her to look at him. 

He regarded her thoughtfully before saying, “What I want from you is simple, Kaguya Mayuri. Your bloodlines are unique, and I want to see how I can mold them, and by extension, you.”

“Wh-what do you mean?”

“I can make you strong, child. You carry within you the potential for not one, but _two_ kekkei genkai. I want them.” 

Mayuri gaped at him. “You mean the curse?”

He scoffed, “It is no curse. Kekkei genkai are _gifts_. Your fellow clansmen and the people of the Land of Water seem incapable of realizing that.” 

Her voice shook as she said, “I don’t want to be strong.”

“No? Then what do you desire, child?”

“I just...I just want to protect Hiroko. I want to go home with her. I promised,” she sniffled, then scrubbed at her eyes, trying to wipe away the tears. She hated that this horrible man was seeing her crying like this. She didn’t want him to see her weakness. He didn’t deserve to have such an intimate part of her. 

“The only way to protect someone is to be strong. Don’t you remember what happened before you were brought here? What do you think your mother made a deal to do, exactly?” His eyes were bright and enrapturing, drawing her in, freezing her in place as she stared into them. 

“The...the others. They hurt us.” Her voice was nothing more than a whisper. Her head was spinning. 

“You died. Both of you.”

“No. That’s impossible….”

“I made it possible for you both to be revived, Mayuri-chan,” his voice was soft, the rasping whisper oddly soothing despite the way that he said her name making her feel like she was crawling out of her own skin. “If you don’t become stronger, you won’t be able to protect her from anyone, and I won’t be able to bring you back a second time. I can make you stronger.”

Mayuri swayed, lightheaded and barely able to catch her breath. She was shivering, arms clutched close to her and fingers digging into her own stomach, breaking through the tender flesh there and creating crescent-shaped cuts. It was the only thing keeping her grounded inside of a skin that felt three sizes too small. She closed her eyes.

She shuddered again, a great thing that seemed to tear through her whole body and settle inside her bones. Then, with a great breath that filled her lungs to the point of painful, she willed herself to be calm. She could handle this. She could be strong now, and break down later. She had to. 

She met the ghost’s eyes once more, and watched as his expression curled into such a self-satisfied thing that she was almost tempted to say no just to spite him. He had won, though, and they both knew it.

“What do I have to do?”

.

Kabuto had taken her by the hand and led her away from the ghost. He had shown her to a room, quiet and cold, and had her sit down while he fetched her a tray of food and a wet cloth to scrub the blood from her face and hands with. She picked at her meal, trying to focus on Kabuto’s words instead of the bitter taste of the food and the churning in her gut as he told her what would be happening. 

“We’ll be running a few experimental procedures, just to see what effects being revived has had on you. After that, we’ll see if we can force the manifestation of a kekkei genkai.” He spoke with the slow, casual tone of someone who knew that their words wouldn’t be understood. He probably took pleasure in knowing the people he spoke to would feel inferior just listening to him, Mayuri thought with a frown. 

She didn’t look up from her food as she mumbled, “How would you do that?” 

“Don’t worry about it, Mayuri-chan. It won’t hurt at all.” 

Mayuri didn’t bother to point out how obvious it was that he was lying. She simply nodded and asked, “What will happen to Hiroko?”

“She didn’t take to the procedure as well as you did, so she’ll be under observation for some time to ensure her condition doesn’t deteriorate. After that, if the experimentations are successful and you become stronger, she’ll have the choice of whether she’d like to go through the same process.” 

Mayuri dragged her gaze away from the food to stare at Kabuto with dead, empty eyes. He matched the look easily, the hollow smile he wore never faltering. 

“Is there a...a thing I need to sign?” she asked, her frown growing as she realized for the first time how limited her vocabulary was. Pushing down her frustration, she continued, “If there is I want you to promise that if I don’t live through your...your _ex-per-i-ments_ , Hiroko won’t be experimented on, too. And that if she is, it would only be if she said it was okay. After all, you have me. You don’t need her too, do you?” 

Kabuto’s smile twisted further and a chill climbed Mayuri’s spine. A strange feeling settled between her shoulder blades, an anxiety that felt like something had taken up residence under her skin there. She swallowed around the lump in her throat.

“There are no contracts to sign or agreements to make, Mayuri-chan,” he said calmly, seemingly ignorant of her mounting horror. “We will take your requests into consideration, since you will be a considerable asset if this experiment works out in our favor. But the moment you took your first breath after the jutsu, you and your sister both became Orochimaru-sama’s property.” 

Mayuri felt like her skull was splitting open. There was something inside her head, screaming _screaming screaming_ , but her body felt far away. “Jutsu? Orochi...maru…?” 

Pieces of a puzzle she hadn’t realized she’d been looking at slotted together at last. Inside of her, something roared to life, a second consciousness fully forming at last and springing to the forefront of her mind. It was too late, though.

Kabuto’s phony smile never faltered as the world faded to black around her.


	5. Adjustment Period

_In the darkness, the two facets of her mind collide. She doesn’t know which is the real her anymore. She knows she is a sister, but to four or to one? How long has she lived this life? Is she twenty-four or is she three?_

_The smell of gasoline and the blinding glare of headlights fills her head, along with the pounding feet of 10, 20, 100 men all chasing her and the taste of blood filling her mouth. She’s in so much pain. Someone is screaming, far away. She wants her mother, though which one, she isn’t sure._

_In the emptiness, two consciousnesses seem to fight one another. She’s not sure who she is._

_This is her world, her life. She was born in the Kaguya clan compound and has never left it in all her short life. It is just her and her mama, granny, and sister. Others, always surrounding them, always stinking of blood and looking at her family with hate-filled eyes. Even so, it is home and she loves it._

_But she also knows that she grew up in a home with both parents, and with younger siblings that she has helped to raise since before she can even remember. They have all been dragged across the country by her father’s job too many times to count, and have always been close because of it. They love one another and do their best to protect each other. Her siblings are her babies, her most precious people._

_That’s the same, though. Both of them can agree on this one thing; her sister is still one of the most precious things in this world. She still wants, more than anything else, to protect her._

_The two facets latch onto this thought, using it as the first step, the first sign that they could be one and the same. Slowly, they begin to meld into something entirely different._

_When Mayuri wakes once more, she is someone (some_ thing _) new._

.

When she came to, the first thing she noticed was that her mouth was dry. She lay still for a long moment, listening to the sound of her own breathing and the rush of blood in her ears. Staring into the darkness, the pleasant heaviness of sleep still hanging over her, it was easy to believe that she had just been having a bad dream. 

When she tried to move and found herself strapped down, reality slapped her in the face once more. 

Mayuri wriggled against the restraints, hoping that she might be small enough to slip out of them. It became quickly apparent, though, that they had been specifically designed for children. The thought by itself was scary. It was worse still to know that whatever they planned for her would be bad enough that she apparently _needed_ to be strapped down. After all, hadn’t she already agreed to do whatever they wanted?

After a few minutes of fruitless struggling, she stilled, breathing hard. She was trembling all over and the metal clamps of the restraints clanked against the bed, echoing loudly in the otherwise quiet room. It was eerie, like a scene from a horror movie. Any second, the monster would arrive to swallow her whole. The only question was, which face would the monster be wearing? Orochimaru’s or Kabuto’s?

Much to her surprise, when the door opened a painfully long time later, it was neither of them that came to get her. A young man dressed all in white stood in the doorway, illuminated by the blinding light from the hallway. He seemed equally surprised to see her staring back at him with eyes squinted against the sudden light. The man took a deep breath and visibly schooled his features into a neutral mask, never breaking eye contact with her. 

After a painfully awkward moment, the medic looked away, forfeiting their impromptu staring contest. He flipped through a few papers on a clipboard, mumbling something too quietly for her to catch. Mayuri frowned, waiting only a second before she made a point of clearing her throat. He looked up from the clipboard, shoulders hunched as he stared back at her. It struck Mayuri as absurd that he would be so defensive around a seemingly little kid. 

She pushed down the hysterical urge to laugh and instead said, “Can I have some water, medic-san?” 

He stared at her for another moment before shrugging and moving closer. In the dim light, her newly adjusted eyes could just make out a counter of some sort in the corner, like at every doctor’s office she had ever visited. She had thought that the room would be a lot bigger, what with the way the darkness had seemed so endless. The medic was able to cross the room in just three steps, though. Granted, he did seem awfully tall to her.

He rooted around in the cabinet for a moment before turning back towards her, holding what looked like an IV bag. He held the end of a tube before her lips, while she eyed him suspiciously. When she opened her mouth to ask if he was about to give her water or saline, he simply stuck the tube between her parted lips. Then, he squeezed the bag.

Mayuri coughed at the sudden rush of water that filled her mouth. She felt the burn of liquid coming out of her nose and choked, twisting her head to force the tube out of her mouth. A puddle was quickly forming around her head, soaking into her hair and making the room seem colder. She wished that she had a blanket.

When she turned back to look at the medic she was certain he would be grinning, cruel and cold, just like the others she had met in this place. To her surprise, he was simply staring impassively back, expression blank besides the slight pinch around his mouth. She frowned.

“That wasn’t very nice, you know,” she told him bluntly. When he didn’t respond, she continued, “Thank you for the water, though. My mouth isn’t as dry anymore.”

He didn’t reply, not that she had expected that he would. Instead, he reached forward, fingers coming to rest on her throat. She flinched back as far as she could manage, eyes squeezing shut and body tensing. There was no pain, though, and no loss of breath. Instead, his fingers pressed carefully at her pulse point, touch as light and gentle as a butterfly. When she opened her eyes and saw him watching a wristwatch, she realized what he was doing. She lay still and let him take her pulse, watching his face curiously for some sign of what he might be feeling. After a long moment, he pulled away, never once showing any signs of emotions beyond the slight tightness around his mouth. 

The man nodded and wrote something down on his clipboard, then shone a light directly in Mayuri’s eyes. She bit her cheek to keep from cursing and did her best not to turn away despite her watering eyes, lest he felt the need to take more drastic measures to get whatever medical information he needed. 

It continued like that for a while, the medic poking and prodding and writing on his clipboard, the scratch of the pen across paper uncomfortably loud to her ears. After a little while, he withdrew, mouth curved down into a frown as he tapped his pen thoughtfully against the paper. Mayuri managed a shaky smile.

“How’s it look? Am I gonna be able to get out of here soon?”

He stared at her silently for a moment before he turned and walked away without a word, expression never changing. Mayuri felt panic grip her as he made a beeline for the door. She thrashed against the restraints once more, wanting nothing more than to sit up. 

“Wait!” she called after him, her voice breathy with her panic. “Where are you going? What’s going to happen?” 

The man closed the door and the room fell once more into darkness. Mayuri stared at where the door was, trying to see even the faintest outline of light, but to no avail. The door was apparently sealed so tightly that not even a hint of light could be seen through the cracks. The girl whimpered quietly, squeezing her eyes so tightly shut that spots began to dance behind her eyelids. 

Her mind was racing, jumping to a thousand different theories and conclusions before finally settling on one complete thought.

She was a tiny, helpless little girl, and she was at the mercy of monsters.

She was stuck in the body of a child, who had apparently fucking _died_ , with the mind of an adult but memories from two very different lives. This was the Naruto universe, unless there was some crazy coincidence in her own world that led to this exact situation with two random people named Orochimaru and Kabuto, who just happened to use jutsus and could apparently bring people back from the dead.

Shit, did that mean she was a zombie? A Naruto-verse zombie? What would that even entail? Were the rules for the living dead different between worlds?

She groaned, then lifted her head and slammed it back down on the cot. The impact made her head pound, so she did it a few more times, just to ensure herself that this was real. It was hard to believe, but with the various aches and pains, and the feeling of water soaking her hair and the chill raising goosebumps along her skin, she couldn’t deny that this was real life and not just a messed up dream. 

Mayuri knew she should probably feel more torn up about it. Maybe it just hadn’t really settled in yet. After all, she felt like any moment her cell phone might ring and it would be her mom on the other end, telling her about her workday and about how the kids were doing and she’d be able to laugh and tell her mom about this crazy dream she just had. However, she also knew that she had been born here. Mayuri had lived out her short life in this world, where jutsu and shinobi were commonplace. The only adjustment that part of her mind had to do was the one concerning her current predicament. 

Maybe, if she had really been just three years old, she wouldn’t be able to handle it. Hell, as an adult, Mayuri wasn’t sure if she’d be able to handle it. All she could do was try, though. She was good at compartmentalization. She could go with the flow. Besides, all that had really been done to her was being strapped down and poked a little. She could handle that. 

Well, she suspected her food had been drugged, too. 

And her sister had been taken away.

And her mother had been brutally murdered right in front of her.

And oh _God, who was going to protect her babies now!?_

Maybe she wasn’t handling this so well. 

Mayuri’s heart ached and her breathing sped up until it was coming in short, rasping gasps. Tears streamed down her cheeks, leaking into her hair, not that that made much of a difference. She threw her head back, slamming it against the metal edge of the cot hard enough to make spots burst before her eyes despite the darkness. Her fingers clawed at the cot, twisting in the paper thin sheets beneath her until she felt them tear. Her mouth stretched wide, open in a soundless scream even as pathetic, breathless little noises escaped instead. She knew she was hyperventilating and she knew exactly what was happening, but she couldn’t stop it. 

She let the panic sweep her away, drown out all rational thought and every sense of self until there was nothing left. In the pitch black room, it was an easy thing to do.

.

When she came back to herself, there was another medic standing over her. It was a woman this time, just as blank faced as the man who had come before her. 

Mayuri stared back with raw, red-rimmed eyes. The woman didn’t say a word as she moved silently away, back turned as she rifled through the cabinet. Mayuri watched her silently, unable to dredge up enough energy to even say anything. 

She felt empty, like someone had drained all emotions and every sense of self from her. It wasn’t a totally foreign feeling, but it wasn’t something she particularly enjoyed. Somehow, though, she found herself a little relieved. She knew when she was disassociating and knew she would feel worse later, but at that moment, it was a welcome reprieve. She didn’t want to be the main actor on her own stage for a little while. 

The medic offered her water in a similar manner as the one before. The only difference was that she didn’t squeeze the little bag hard enough to choke Mayuri, letting the water trickle into her mouth instead. Mayuri mumbled a quiet thank you when the tube was removed and turned her face away.

The woman stood over her for a long moment, and Mayuri heard the scratching of a pen over paper. It seemed strangely out of place in the quiet of the room. When it stopped, the woman left, closing the door behind her. Once again, Mayuri was left in darkness with a sinking feeling in her gut. 

This time, it was only for a moment. The woman came back holding a bag. Mayuri watched her suspiciously as she came to stand over her once again. 

“If you cause any trouble you will regret it,” she said, her voice surprisingly high and the look in her eyes leaving no doubt in Mayuri’s mind that she would enjoy making her suffer. Numbly, the girl nodded. 

The medic undid the strap across her chest, relieving a pressure that Mayuri hadn’t even realized was there. She gasped for breath, ignoring the disgusted look that the medic sent her. The woman quickly undid the restraints on her ankles and wrists, her hand resting heavily on Mayuri’s shoulder as she helped her sit up. Mayuri felt a shiver climb her spine, and she wished with every fiber of her being that the woman would just _stop touching her._

“I will escort you to use the bathroom and afterwards you will receive a meal. You have fifteen minutes to eat. Then you will be brought back here to continue with the examination. Do you understand?”

Mayuri nodded, and the woman lifted her off the cot and placed her onto her feet. Mayuri wobbled a bit, trying to get a handle on the fact that the world suddenly seemed three times larger than she could ever remember it being. She instinctively reached out to grasp at the hem of the woman’s shirt to help steady herself. The woman didn’t pull away, but when Mayuri looked up at her, she was met with another look of disgust. She simply smiled back, trying to put as much innocence and sugary sweetness into the look as she possibly could.

Mayuri stiffened as the medic placed a black bag over her head and a leather cuff on one wrist, but did not protest. She remembered, vaguely, that bagging was a method of sensory deprivation and torture. She wanted to scoff. Hadn’t they ever heard of The Geneva Conventions? 

She felt a tug on her wrist and took a step in that direction, feeling like one of those toddlers whose parents kept them on a leash. She was a blindfolded toddler-adult on the world’s worst leash. How humiliating.

She stumbled as she was pulled along at a breakneck pace, bumping into the doorframe as they passed out of the examination room and into the hallways beyond. Her little legs couldn’t seem to keep up with her babysitter and the ground hurt her bare feet. This was ridiculous.

“You’re walking too fast.” She announced as she stumbled yet again. The medic didn’t respond, but she did slow down just a tiny bit. Mayuri sighed, shifting to walk on the balls of her feet in hopes of relieving the pressure there. “You’re not used to dealing with kids, huh?” 

The medic grunted, then said, “We’re here. You can remove the hood as soon as you’re inside. Can you manage this on your own?” 

Mayuri hummed an affirmative and nodded vigorously, relieved that she wouldn’t have to face the embarrassment of someone trying to help her use the bathroom, and was guided through another doorway. As she heard the woman move away and the slight squeak of door hinges, she mumbled a quiet, “Thank you.” 

After all, if people liked her she probably had a better chance of survival. Kill them with kindness and live to tell the tale herself. Win-win.

.

It went on like that for what she guessed was a week, though she wasn’t entirely sure. She had never had a very good grasp on the passage of time, and trying to count the minutes here was impossible and just left her frustrated or panicking. It was easier for her to drift, thoughts running just below her stream of consciousness, easily ignored as time slipped away. 

Except, of course, when they weren’t. Despite her best efforts, she’d often find her thoughts coming to swallow her up and then send her into a blind panic. She got nightmares often, full of blood and staring eyes and a head resting at her feet. The face that looked up at her from that decapitated head tended to change. It was always the worst when it was the familiar faces of her babies, staring imploringly up at her with wide, terrified eyes. 

On top of that, being strapped down and unable to move for so many hours out of the day was a special sort of nightmare in and of itself. She felt like she was constantly on the verge of crawling out of her own skin, like it was shrinking around her. She was constantly shaking, fidgeting, thrashing until her wrists bled, going out of her mind. It was a horrific, indescribable feeling. By what she guessed was just the second day, she had been almost willing to do anything for them to untie her for just a little while so she could relieve the tension that was building more and more with each passing moment. It was only what little remained of her pride that stopped her from begging.

At least the isolation gave her enough time to sort through a shit ton of issues. When her mind was occupied, it was sometimes easier to ignore the crawling under her skin. Not that it really did much good, because as soon as she came to terms with one thing then another horrible thought appeared to take its place. There were just too many factors and things she didn’t know, and the uncertainty was tearing her apart. She usually ended her deep-thinking sessions either asleep or in tears. It was generally easier to just sleep.

When she couldn’t sleep, Mayuri did her best to explore her new body in what little ways she could while being restrained. She carefully flexed each muscle and focused on the movements and the feelings, trying to get used to the changes. She was weaker than she could ever remember being and everything around her was horribly big, but her body at least still functioned much the same as the old one. She promised herself that, should she survive whatever horrific things Orochimaru wanted to do to her, she’d make sure this body became something she could use to its full potential. She didn’t want to ever feel this weak and helpless ever again. 

The one thing about this new form that she couldn’t seem to really get a handle on, though, was the buzzing just under her skin. She could feel it, always there, always moving through her body like a living thing. It took her days to figure out that it was probably chakra, and not some horrific parasite that had made it’s home inside her veins. As much as she tried to focus and control it, she couldn’t seem to feel any difference at all. It just continued its sluggish journey under her skin, moving in ways she had never experienced before. She had no clue what to make of it.

It was way easier to focus on what she _did_ know, and really, all she knew was that she got two meals and three bathroom breaks in what she guessed was a day, and that she made sure to thank the medics every time.  
She was pretty sure they were starting to warm up to her, which would be a lot cooler if she wasn’t warming up to them in turn. She had to remind herself, over and over, that they were the bad guys here. That they worked for Orochimaru and they were just as guilty in the slaughter of her mother, and her and Hiroko’s kidnapping and torture. They were the ones who were complicit in leaving a child immobile and alone in a dark room 23 hours out of the day. Not to mention whatever horrors were happening to Hiroko!

It was a little hard to keep that conviction when Sora, one of the handful of medics that she had met in the last week, wiped away her tears with gentle hands after one of the others had drawn spinal fluid. When Emi couldn’t finish a joke (which she had been telling to distract Mayuri from the blood that she was drawing) because she was laughing too hard, it was all too easy to forget that all the people working for Orochimaru were supposed to be evil.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is really more of a transitional chapter, and to be honest I'm not sure I'm entirely pleased with how it turned out. I think it's necessary for moving the story along, though, and can't think of any ways to really make it flow better. So this is how it's going to be for now! Hope you weren't too thrown off by it!
> 
> A special shout out to datsonyat on ff.net for not only leaving some amazing reviews, but for also helping me out with my grammar and chatting with me about this fic. She's amazing and deserves so many good things.


	6. Fake Out

It was Kabuto who stared down at her this time. She stared back, focusing on his mouth, unable to bring herself to look him in the eyes. She watched as his lips curled up into a smile.

“Are you hungry, Mayuri-chan?”

She didn’t respond. She didn’t want to speak with this monster, because if she did, he would hear the way her voice broke and he would know that she had been crying again. She didn’t want him to have the satisfaction. He hummed thoughtfully in response to her silence.

“I’d imagine you are. How about we get something to eat?” he paused, leaving her room to speak. When she didn’t, he continued, “No? Perhaps there’s something else you need?”

Mayuri frowned, wondering what he was playing at. He had to know exactly what she needed. She was hungry and she felt filthy and she was terrified to the depths of her soul on top of being mere moments away from peeing herself. Did he want her to admit that? Say she was scared and hungry? Did he want her to ask for his permission to use the bathroom? It was probably some sort of power play, but the joke was on him because she was already well aware of just how powerless she was, considering someone had been holding her hand on the way to the bathroom ever since she’d run blindly into a wall three days before. On top of that, the only reason they were holding her hand instead of carrying her was because the first time someone had tried she had thrown a temper tantrum and none of the medics wanted to deal with that again. Well, all except Emi, who still tried to carry her sometimes, much to Mayuri’s displeasure.

The only real question here was; was she stubborn enough to refuse his offer or not? After all, if she did end up pissing herself, it wasn’t like it wouldn’t dry, and she’d get used to the smell pretty quickly, she was certain. It wouldn’t be fun, of course. In fact, it would be humiliating and uncomfortable. But if it felt like a victory, no matter how small, against Kabuto and Orochimaru, she was pretty sure she could swallow her pride and deal with it. 

Kabuto must have seen something of her thoughts of her face, because that was when he said, “I can take you to your sister if you behave,” and of course that was enough to get her attention. It was frustrating and frightening, knowing just how easily swayed she was and how easily that could be turned against her. She took a deep breath and finally met his eyes.

“Fine.”

There was no gleam of triumph in his eyes, no twisting of his smile, and that was perhaps the most surprising thing. She had expected his plots to be apparent, cheesy ominous music and all. Instead, Kabuto simply began undoing the restraints on her hands and across her chest without a sound. She turned away as he did so, staring blankly into the seemingly endless expanse of darkness that stretched above her. 

When she was free, she pushed herself up and let her legs dangle from the edge of the cot. The floor seemed stupidly far away. For a second, she wondered what he would do if she raised her arms to him and asked to be picked up. She pushed the thought away with disgust, acknowledging that it was the desire of a little girl who was dead and gone, just an impulse left over from the brain inside her skull. It was a disturbing thought, but more than that, she just didn’t want Kabuto to touch her. So she pushed herself off the edge and landed with a quiet thump. 

Kabuto was still watching her. Looking up at him, Mayuri realized he was only a head and a half taller than she was. She frowned, considering what that might mean. Was he just really short? Was she tall? She wasn’t sure, and that bothered her. Of course, there were more pressing things in her life than her curiosity.

“Where is the bathroom?” 

Kabuto gestured for her to follow him as he turned away. Much to her surprise, there was no blind placed over her eyes. Mayuri had to pause when they entered the hallway, squinting against the blinding light of the torches as her eyes adjusted. When she was able to see again, she was a little surprised to find that Kabuto was still waiting patiently for her. He turned and strode away, his long legs carrying him down the hall so quickly that Mayuri had to run to keep up, silently cursing her short legs the whole way. 

“Here we are. You can go ahead and bathe while you’re in there. I’ll be back for you in a little while,” he told her as they stopped in front of an unmarked door. Mayuri smiled and thanked him out of habit as she went in. If he was surprised by it, Kabuto didn’t show it. 

As soon as the door closed, her smile slid away. It was a different bathroom than she was used to, larger than the one she had been using. Like the one before it, there was no sign of a mirror anywhere in the room.

She sighed heavily, scanned the room for any sign of cameras, and then dashed to take care of her business. She had never been so happy to see a toilet before, and the sight of the large bathtub was a welcome one as well. There was no soap laid out, so a soak would have to be enough.

As she sunk into the warm water, steam filling the room, Mayuri was reminded of how much she appreciated indoor plumbing. At least this place had that. 

“Little joys. Take them where you can,” she whispered, letting out another sigh as she rubbed at her skin viciously, trying to wash away the awful feeling of grime and sickness that seemed to cling to her. Then, she ducked under the water. 

Under the surface, the only sound she could hear was the thudding of her own heart. Her hair swished around her head, longer than she had ever had it Before. It tickled against her back, moving with the slight currents of the water. She wished that she could just stay under there for forever. She wondered, if this body were to die again, what they would do. 

When she resurfaced and rubbed the water out of her eyes, she was shocked to find Kabuto in the room with her. She shrieked, sinking back down immediately until only her eyes peeked out over the top of the water so she could glare at him. 

“I knocked,” he told her simply, a towel and what looked to be a change of clothes thrown over his arm. Mayuri’s glare didn’t ease up, but she reluctantly raised herself halfway out of the water, arm outstretched for the towel. He surrendered it easily. 

“Could you leave so I can dry off and, you know, _get dressed_?” she asked, turning away from him as she draped the towel over her shoulders, the bottom soaking up the bathwater since she still hadn’t climbed out of the tub. She wished she sounded angry or defiant, but knew her tiny voice just came out sounding petulant and whiny. 

“I am a medic, you know,” he said, sounding earnestly amused. “Believe me when I say that you’ve got nothing I haven’t seen before.” 

“That still doesn’t mean I want you watching me while I get dressed. Can you just put the clothes down and leave?” 

He shrugged, but conceded. Once the door was firmly shut behind him, Mayuri climbed out of the tub. A puddle was forming rapidly at her feet. Steam still hung heavy in the air and she watched as it swirled in the dim light, reminded of the mist that hung over the compound. She felt a sudden pang of homesickness at the thought. 

She scowled, trying to ignore it. The people there had _literally_ killed her and Hiroko. Her mother was dead, and if the fog of pain-filled, horror driven memories were correct, her grandmother had been killed by the villagers while trying to defend her and Hiroko. The thought had filled her with guilt when she had first realized it, but now she faced it with a resigned sort of grief. Nothing was left for them with their clan. There was no going back. Not that she had any choice in the matter, anyways. 

Besides, it wasn’t really the only home she could remember.

Mayuri’s scowl deepened as she examined the clothes left behind for her. They were simple enough—a white, long-sleeved tunic and black leggings to wear underneath it. But the stupid purple rope was a crime against humanity. There was no way she would wear it. Orochimaru had already killed her mother and kidnapped her and her sister, and it had already been made clear that he wanted them alive, at least for now. What could he do to her at this point if she refused to wear a stupid, ugly belt? 

When she padded into the hall, barefoot and with her damp hair soaking the back of her too-big tunic, conspicuously belt-less, Kabuto made no comment. She sort of hoped that that was a sign that no one actually cared about the silly rope-belt, because no matter what she tried to tell herself, she knew that things could get worse. If Orochimaru or anyone else told her to use the belt, she would break immediately and put it on, no matter how much she hated it.

Still, she had to take the little victories in life, she reminded herself again. If she could get away with it, refusing to wear the silly uniform belt would be one of them. She wasn’t ready to hand herself over to Orochimaru, and in her mind, agreeing to wear the belt was like a physical symbol of him owning her. After all, if she was remembering correctly, all of his experimental subjects and minions had worn it, even Sasuke. 

She shoved the thought away quickly, reminding herself to focus on what was happening to her. She needed to find Hiroko and she needed to figure out how to get them out of here before anything bad could happen to either of them. The first step would be, of course, to find her sister. So she followed Kabuto obediently as he led her through a maze of identical hallways. 

As she walked behind him, her bare feet slapping noisily at the stone ground, she marveled at how quiet he was. Even when she walked on her tiptoes there was still a slight sound. Kabuto, on the other hand, never seemed to make a single sound. She wondered if that was something that could be learned, or if it was just some weird innate ability the people of this world had. 

“Kabuto-san?”

“What is it?”

“Can you teach me how to do that?”

At this, his steps seemed to falter, and immediately Mayuri wanted to take the words back, cursing her apparent lack of a brain-to-mouth filter. He glanced back at her over his shoulder, and she wished desperately that she could see his face clearly. Maybe then she would be able to guess what he was thinking.

“What would you like to learn, exactly?”

Mayuri shook her head quickly, fingers finding the hem of her tunic and twisting it nervously. Her mind was working overtime, going through as many possibilities and ways that she could work this to her advantage as well as all the way things could go wrong. Was what she had said suspicious somehow? She didn’t want any unnecessary attention on either her or Hiroko. She watched the ground as they walked, unwilling to look at him as she said, “Nevermind. It’s nothing.”

“You know, Mayuri-chan, if you want to be taught something all you have to do is ask. Orochimaru-sama has already offered to help you to become stronger. Learning new techniques and trusting in him are the only ways to do that. He wants to help you to become strong and to achieve your dreams.” 

That was utter bullshit, of course. But he sounded so earnest, so painfully _sincere_ , that if she hadn’t known any better, Mayuri suspected she would have definitely been taken in like every other strangely devoted follower of Orochimaru. Which...actually gave her an idea.

“Do you really mean it?” she asked, widening her eyes even though he wouldn’t be able to see them. “Do you and Orochimaru-sama really think that I can be strong some day?” 

Kabuto stopped walking. He turned towards her, kneeling down so that he was on her level, so close that when Mayuri raised her eyes from the floor, she could see his face clearly. She stared, wide eyed with shock, because at last she could see just how young he was. He wasn’t just short, he was a literal _child_ , no older than twelve. When he reached out and took hold of her hand, she didn’t pull away.

“I mean it. With his help, you will one day become a great kunoichi and a powerful and important tool. But you must do as you are told. Do you understand, Mayuri-chan?” His eyes were intense, glinting steel behind his large glasses, and Mayuri couldn’t seem to look away. He sounded so devoted, so convincing in his sincerity, that she was suddenly unsure whether he was lying or not. She bit her lip, and the twinge of pain was enough to ground her once again. She reminded herself that she had the advantage here. She knew his game and she knew how good he was at it. 

So she would just have to play it better. 

She would have to become just as devoted to Orochimaru’s cause as Kabuto seemed to be, and as any of his more loyal followers were. She would have to be sure that they all trusted her, believed that she was just as taken in by his promises as all the others. Only then would she have freedom of movement, and only then would she and Hiroko be able to escape.

She nodded, smiling at the boy kneeling before her. He smiled back, and it was the first one she had seen from him that seemed like it might be real. Go figure.

When he straightened up and offered her a hand to hold, she took it without hesitating. His skin was strangely cold and his hand felt rough in her own. She couldn’t take her eyes away from the sight of her hand in his as they walked, her head spinning as she stared at the tiny, chubby appendage. Was it really hers? Her brain said yes, but her mind said no. It was a strange dissonance and it made her feel ridiculously uncomfortable. 

She forced herself to look away, trying to hide her sudden shudder. Her hand shook despite her best efforts, and Kabuto squeezed it gently before pulling away. Mayuri took a deep breath, reminded herself that she had a better chance of surviving if Kabuto liked her, and tugged on the hem of his shirt. When he looked down, she reached out for his hand again, hoping the way she looked away made her appear shy instead of uncomfortable. He laughed softly and took her hand again. She smiled back, hoping that after so many years of working customer service, her forced cheeriness looked real.

“Where are we going now, Kabuto-san? When will I get to see my sister?”

“We’re going to get you something to eat. I can take you to Hiroko-chan afterwards.”

Mayuri nodded, mumbling a quiet word of thanks. Her hands were starting to feel clammy, but Kabuto’s was still the same as when she had first slipped her hand into his, cool and dry. It made her feel strangely human in comparison, and somehow lesser for it.

They walked in silence after that, and she listened to the way her steps and breaths echoed. She was still trying to wrap her mind around how it was possible for Kabuto to be so quiet and decided that that would be the first thing she would ask to be taught when the chance arose.

Soon enough they reached a large open entryway where the sounds of many voices were spilling out into the hallway. Mayuri’s brow furrowed and she looked up at Kabuto, her face full of confusion. He smiled, dropped her hand, and gestured for her to enter before him. She was quite certain the expression on her face was one of horror at his betrayal, but he didn’t seem at all bothered by it. 

Mayuri straightened her back and clenched her hands into fists at her side, fighting through her uncertainty. Then she marched forwards, holding her head high. The sight that greeted her stopped her short, though. The room was more of a cavern than an actual room, with high ceilings and rocky walls, and within it were a few dozen people. It looked like some kind of a cafeteria, more than any kind of secret lab or torture chamber. 

It made sense, of course. In a compound this large they would have to have somewhere to go to eat, since she doubted many of the rooms had built-in kitchens. The sight of so many people clustered together, eating and talking and laughing, was what really what gave her pause. It was yet another odd reminder that all of Orochimaru’s minions were, in fact, human. 

The girl nearly jumped out of her skin as a hand fell to rest on her shoulder. Kabuto ushered her forward, saying, “I’ll show you where to get your food. After that, choose a table and you can eat.”

It felt suspiciously like she was back in school as they got in line. She grabbed a tray only to find, further down the line, that she wasn’t tall enough to see the food being offered. She grabbed the edge of the platform and did her best to hoist herself up. Once, she would have been able to support her whole weight on extended arms. In this body, though, she couldn’t do it. Frustrated tears prickled at her eyes as she found that she could only keep herself upright for a split second before her elbows gave and she fell, barely avoiding slamming her chin into the edge. 

And she still hadn’t been able to see what was being offered for people to eat. She blinked rapidly in an attempt to stop the angry tears from spilling over, forcing them back before she swallowed her pride and turned to Kabuto for help.

When she had finally gotten out of the line, tray piled with rice and nothing more at Kabuto’s insistence, she froze. She knew that she was expected to find somewhere to sit and eat, but every table had people at it. She felt eyes on her, assessing her as she assessed the rest of the room. After a moment, she took a few hesitant steps forwards, heading for a nearly-empty table situated in a corner. Most of the tables near the center of the room were scarcely populated as well, but she didn’t like the idea of the vulnerability that sitting with people on all sides brought. 

She stopped awkwardly in front of the table, her fingers clenched hard around the edges of the tray. As far as she could tell, not one of the table’s occupants had noticed her yet. Or if they had, they were doing a very good job of pretending they hadn’t. Steeling herself, she forced a smile and said, “Hello. Can I sit with you?”

One of the people glanced down at her, bored gaze taking in her too-big clothes and bare feet. He shrugged and then went back to his conversation. Mayuri figured that was probably the best she was going to get. She looked over her shoulder to gauge Kabuto’s reaction only to find that he was gone. Her eyes narrowed, but after a second of contemplation, she accepted that she would be stuck sitting at the table until he deemed it time to come back and get her. After all, there was no way she would be able to find Hiroko all on her own with only her nonexistent knowledge of the base to guide her. 

Mayuri settled down at the far end of the table and picked at her food absently, subtlely listening in on the few conversations she could hear. There was nothing of any importance, as far as she could tell. The group at the other end of her table were comparing scars, laughing and jeering at one another. A girl at the table across from her was recounting her latest hookup on her last mission to a few other women who listened intently.

A man a table over yelled out a snide, “How long did it take ‘em to bleed out once you finished?” and the woman called back, “Longer than it takes _you_ to finish, Shiro!” and the whole cafeteria booed. 

Mayuri caught herself smiling, just a little, and quickly stuffed more rice in her mouth to hide it. She was three. She wasn’t supposed to find this sort of stuff funny! 

“Hey, kid,” someone called out. Raising her head, cheeks still bulging with rice, she searched for the owner of the voice. Her eyes zeroed in on a boy just a few years older than she was. He was grinning at her, his smile missing more than a few teeth. She swallowed her half-chewed food painfully before smiling back timidly. She pointed at her own chest to make sure he was really talking to her. The boy nodded, curly brown hair bouncing with the movement, then slid into the seat opposite of her. “Yeah, you. What’re you in for? You’re younger’n most of the brats the big man recruits. You someone’s kid?” 

“You’re a kid, too,” she pointed out, pouting a little. When the boy just laughed in response, she continued. “Um, I don’t know why I’m here, actually. I think they’re going to tell me after I finish eating.” 

The boy’s smile fell, his expression morphing into something far more somber. His expression seemed to say, “I’m looking at a dead man walking.” 

Mayuri looked away quickly, her throat tightening. She already knew that whatever they had planned for her wasn’t going to be pleasant. She didn’t need the reminder that apparently, everyone else did, too. She shoveled more rice into her mouth. 

“You’ll be fine, kid,” he said, reaching across the table to pat her shoulder. She stiffened under his touch and he withdrew his hand. When she looked up at him again, he was smiling at her, soft and sad. She did her best to return his smile.

He opened his mouth, a half-formed word upon his lips, when suddenly he froze, eyes going wide. His gaze was focused somewhere over her shoulder and Mayuri twisted in her seat to find a figure looming over her. She smiled.

“Hello, Kabuto-san.”

He smiled back and said, “Are you ready to go?” 

Mayuri nodded quickly, standing up and brushing off the front of her tunic. Glancing over towards the boy again, she tried to reassure him with a smile. He stared back at her, face grey and eyes wide, making a point of not shifting his gaze towards Kabuto again. Kabuto didn’t spare a glance towards him, his glasses reflecting the light. Despite his apparent obliviousness to the boy’s discomfort, Mayuri could swear she saw his smile turn menacing for a second as his eyes slanted towards the group at the other end of the table. Mayuri tugged childishly at the hem of his shirt, pouting.

“Let’s go, please. I wanna see my sister.” 

As they walked together from the room, Mayuri could feel the eyes that watched her go. She knew, without turning back, that they would all hold the same resignation that the boy’s had.

.

“I should warn you that Hiroko hasn’t been very responsive for the better part of the week.” 

Mayuri turned to look at Kabuto with eyes bright and wide with worry. She stumbled over her own feet and had to catch herself before she could respond. Kabuto didn’t spare her a look, his steps slow and leisurely as he led her to her sister. She hurried to keep up, gaze still trained on him.

“What do you mean?” she demanded, voice sharp and high. Kabuto tilted his head to look at her with narrowed eyes and an expression she couldn’t quite decipher. 

“You sister has been following the orders given to her by the medics attending her, but other than that, she has been unresponsive and has refused to speak. I want you to know going in that she might not respond to you. She might not even recognize you.” 

Mayuri felt her heart sink and had to swallow around the lump in her throat several times before she could speak. Her voice came out as barely even a whisper as she asked, “Do you know what’s...what’s wrong with her? Will she get better?”

“I don’t know yet. I’ve seen this happen before with other children that Orochimaru-sama revived. She seems to be doing better than those that came before the two of you, but she is nowhere near the level of comprehensive capabilities that you have been exhibiting.”

Something bitter and angry churned in her stomach as she listened to him. She felt cold all over and her mind was whirling with possibilities and uncertainties, and dread joined the medley of dark feelings within her. She didn’t know what she would do if Hiroko wasn’t okay, but something told her it wasn’t going to be pretty. 

By the time Kabuto stopped in front of a door that looked just the same as every other one they had passed, Mayuri’s hands were shaking and her heart was thumping loudly within her chest. Kabuto paused, his hand resting on the handle. He turned to look at her, that same strange expression on his face, like he was studying some sort of particularly interesting insect and wanted to see what it would do next. Mayuri met his grey eyes, careful to keep her face neutral for fear that if she didn’t, her fear and anger would be painfully apparent. When she gave him a firm nod that didn’t match with the uncertainty she felt, Kabuto opened the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, next chapter we finally get to actually meet Hiroko! I'm looking forward to it, and I hope you are, too! 
> 
> Just so everyone knows, I recently started a full-time job with some weird hours, so I might not be able to update every week for a little while like I had originally planned. That's still my goal, but until I adjust to the different hours, my update schedule will likely be a little bit wonky. 
> 
> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed, and please let me know your thoughts.


	7. A Moment of Rest

The room was dark, but not the same pitch black of the one Mayuri had been held in. It took her eyes a moment to adjust to the sparse lighting, and she was left blinking rapidly, squinting as she tried to make out the sight before her. When her eyes fell upon a small figure curled up on a cot, her breath whooshed out of her.

Stumbling forward, she bumped into the edge of the cot and immediately hoisted herself up, tiny legs flailing in the air for a second as she struggled to get onto the cot. She settled by her sister, reaching out with trembling fingers to push a lock of black hair back from her face. It was strange to see this girl, to see a stranger, and yet to _know_ who she was, right down to the very fiber of her soul. This was her sister. That was all that mattered. 

“Hiroko,” she whispered, voice trembling. “Hiroko, are you okay?” She shook her shoulder gently. When Hiroko curled into a tighter ball, seeming to collapse in on herself, and didn’t so much as open her eyes, Mayuri turned to Kabuto, her eyes enormous and worried.

“Try being a bit louder,” he said, sounding amused but not cruel. Though she couldn’t tell if it was genuine or not, the tone helped to set her at ease.

She shook her a little harder, calling her name again. She had done this a hundred times before, waking her sister up for school, for work, to help their mother, to go outside to play. This time felt different, though. Special in a way that was terrifying and exhilarating all at once. 

When Hiroko groaned and rolled over, batting her hand away, Mayuri couldn’t hold back the relieved laughter that bubbled in her throat, because that counted as a reaction, didn’t it? Surely, surely she would be okay. She had to be. Gathering Hiroko up in her arm, she pulled her in for a tight hug. The girl let out a quiet noise of shock, going rigid in her arms. 

“Hiro, it’s me. It’s Mayuri!” She paused, and then in a language that felt heavy and awkward on her tongue, she breathed, “ _It’s me. Can you understand me? I remember everything.”_

Hiroko pulled back abruptly, staring at her sister with a single enormous eye that was glassy with more than just sleep. Mayuri stared in shock right back at her, taking in the childish face of the girl she had known for as long as she could remember. A white bandage obscured half of her face, keeping a pad pressed firmly against her left eye. 

There was blood staining the wrappings. 

The sudden image of Hiroko with her face mutilated, a gaping hole where one eye should be and blood pooling around her head flashed through Mayuri’s mind. She shuddered, fighting back nausea at the memory. She reached slowly forwards, resting one hand on her sister’s shoulder and squeezing gently. Hiroko looked at the hand, then back at Mayuri’s face. A look of understanding dawned on her face, her visible eye going bright and clear. Mayuri blinked quickly, trying to stop the tears that prickled at her eyes, threatening to spill over. She took a deep, shuddering breath, and did her best to smile.

“Hiro, it’s going to be okay. We’ll figure out how to—”

Hiroko slapped her, _hard._ Mayuri was left open-mouthed, staring in shock at the wall beside her sister’s head as she tried to process what had happened as the taste of blood danced across her tongue. Funny, how she had had that taste in her mouth more times in the past week than she had ever had before.

Slowly, she shifted her gaze back to her sister. Hiroko was breathing hard, tears pouring from her visible eye and lip trembling as she glared. Her hands were resting in her lap, fists clenched and knuckles white. Mayuri reached up to touch her stinging cheek, unable to wrap her mind around the fact that her sister had just hit her.

“Hiroko...what—?”

“Don’t,” she snapped, her voice hoarse and tight. Mayuri flinched back from the harsh tone. “Don’t try to lie to me. I’ve been dealing with the same shit as you for the past fucking _week._ So don’t even try to act like things are fine. Don’t pretend. Things aren’t...I’m not—” Her voice seemed to fail her and she shook her head angrily, dropping her head and hiding her face in her hands as her shoulders shook with sobs.

They sat together, Hiroko refusing to look at her sister and Mayuri in turn unable to tear her gaze away from her. She listened as her sister cried, wanting to comfort her but not knowing how. She found she couldn’t even bring herself to cry with her.

Eventually, the only sound she could pick up was that of both of their breathing as it slowly evened out. They let the silence fill the room for a while, both lost in their own thoughts. Mayuri licked her lips and swallowed hard before breaking the quiet of the room. 

“I’m sorry, okay? I just don’t know what else to do, or how to help you, or—” she looked away at last, chewing at her lip as words failed her. She had been trying to ignore the panic of the unknown that had been filling and consuming her since she had woken up here for her sister’s sake. She had been doing her best to act like everything was fine, that she could do something for them and that she wasn’t just helpless and clueless and scared. She wasn’t sure what to do now that her last line of defense had been so plainly laid out by the person she wanted more than anything to protect. 

“I know,” Hiroko mumbled. Mayuri forced her gaze back to her sister and had to swallow around the lump in her throat that threatened to choke her. She had seen her sister making the same face too many times to count, too sad for words, unwilling to outright ask for comfort. 

Mayuri spread her arms wide and when Hiroko shifted forward, she closed the gap between them and pulled her in for a tight hug, trying to keep the both of them from shattering. When her sister squeezed her back, shoulders shaking with sobs again, Mayuri finally allowed herself to cry, tears slipping silently down her cheeks and soaking the thin material of Hiroko’s gown. For the first time since she had woken up here, she didn’t feel ashamed of her tears. 

“I’m sorry to have to break up this heartwarming moment, but there was a reason I brought you here,” Kabuto intoned, and Mayuri knew without looking that he was smiling that empty, infuriating smile of his. She ignored him, pulling Hiroko closer. There was a pause, and then he spoke softly, a warning in his tone. “Hiroko, Mayuri. You know what will happen if you don’t obey.” 

With one more squeeze, Mayuri took a deep, shuddering breath and pulled away. Wiping her face with the hem of her sleeve, she gave a quick shake of her head in response to Hiroko’s questioning look as she turned towards Kabuto. She scooted to the edge of the bed and let her legs dangle over the side, swinging idly as she waited. She pretended that Kabuto’s smile didn’t make her stomach twist and smiled back at him. She knew that it was strained and watery, but she hoped that he would attribute that to the crying she had been doing and not her continued disgust with him. 

“What next, Kabuto-san?” She questioned, trying to keep her tone light. She felt Hiroko’s fingers on the hem of her tunic and reached back immediately to grab her sister’s hand. She squeezed it, trying to offer some form of comfort, to keep up the act that she was handling everything, even if it was just for herself now. Hiroko squeezed it back, filling Mayuri with both a warm rush of affection and the chill of terror. She loved her sister more than anything else in this world, and she had the sickening feeling that that would probably end up being the death of them both. 

When she shot a quick glance back towards Hiroko, she felt an odd pang of pride at the cold, level stare her sister was giving Kabuto. She looked thoroughly unimpressed with the boy, and it made Mayuri want to laugh. It also made her want to smack her a little, because didn’t she realize it wasn’t smart to antagonize the guy who could kill you as easy as he could squish a bug?

“There will be two experiments run. Hiroko-chan, you will be a part of Group A and Mayuri-chan will be part of Group B. You both have high chances of survival, given your bloodlines, physical strength, and overall health.” 

Mayuri whirled to look at Kabuto so quickly her neck cracked. Her gaze was open, full of horror and disbelief and fury and far too many emotions to ever name, not a single one of them good. 

“Wait! Kabuto-san, you said that Hiroko was too weak for anything like that right now! You...you said that—”

He shook his head and she fell silent. Mayuri could feel Hiroko’s gaze boring into her back, questioning and accusing. When Kabuto spoke, his voice was methodical and professional as he said, “Hiroko-chan has made remarkable progress in the last few days. She’s been deemed strong enough to participate in a lower-risk experiment, so try not to worry. There’s a very good chance that—”

Mayuri stopped truly listening, and instead marveled at the way his smile never faltered, at how his voice never changed from the calm, detached drone as he told them in so many fancy words that they might die after being subjected to what would probably be horrible, painful experimentation. He continued talking, telling them more about their roles and survival rates without ever actually revealing anything meaningful. It was unreal, like some kind of a horrible nightmare. 

Her mind latched onto the thought, and already she could feel herself starting to disassociate, the world around her taking a strange hyper-focus, half convinced that she must be dreaming. She shuddered, chewing the skin of her lips and the insides of her cheeks until they bled. If the wounds hurt, she didn’t notice. 

She wondered what Kabuto would do if she started slapping herself, then considered asking Hiroko to hit her again, instead. She quickly disregarded the idea, since that would probably result in him separating them again. So instead she nodded along as he spoke, the sound of his voice rushing over her but not really hearing any of the words. 

She must have done something right, nodded and hummed when it was required, because she found herself thanking him and saying goodnight. Then, she was left alone with her sister, the door shutting and a lock clicking into place as Kabuto left. She stared at the door for a long moment, half expecting him to come bursting back in to take one of them away again. 

After a bit, she hummed and turned to Hiroko, grinning sheepishly as she said, “I didn’t get a single word of whatever it was he was just telling us. Did you?” Hiroko gaped at her, her face pale and sweat beading on her forehead despite the chill of the room. Slowly, she shook her head. Mayuri barked a humorless laugh, throwing her head back to stare at the stone ceiling with wild eyes. “We’re a mess, aren’t we?”

“Yeah, I guess we are.” Hiroko paused and made a face. “Shit, we really, _really_ are.” 

The two girls shared a look, then burst out laughing. It was too loud, too forced, just this side of hysterical, but it was a relief all the same. Mayuri was grateful for the chance to laugh with her sister again. It helped to relieve some of the tension that had been steadily building. She just hoped that it wouldn’t be the last time they would laugh together like this. 

.

“You really _do_ remember, right?” Hiroko whispered. 

The sisters were curled up together on the cot, lying practically on top of one another, their legs tangled. Mayuri hummed from where she lay with her head resting on Hiroko’s chest, listening to the steady beating of her heart. She had her fingers pressed against her own neck, feeling the steady thrum of her pulse as it fluttered beneath her fingers. Hiroko could remember her doing the same thing, Before. She seemed to take comfort in the reminders that they were both alive.  
Hiroko huffed in annoyance and said, “That doesn’t answer my question.”

“Sorry, what was the question?”

“I asked you if you remembered. You do, don’t you?” Hiroko’s voice was soft, shaking with fear. There were too many memories swimming in her mind to keep track of, too many thoughts and feelings from one too many lives that seemed to refuse to sort themselves out. She hadn’t really been able to sleep for days, and it was weighing heavily on her mind. As she watched Mayuri struggle to stay awake, she felt something cold and heavy coil in her stomach. 

“Yeah, I do. I was the first one to ask _you_ that, remember?” Mayuri mumbled back, squishing her face further against her sister’s flat chest. Hiroko grimaced, but felt a sudden rush of heady relief. 

Smiling, she playfully shoved Mayuri, laughing as she said, “Did you just drool on me? That’s so gross! If you’re going to fall asleep can you do it somewhere else?”

Mayuri huffed out a quiet laugh in response and sat up, only to quickly plop down on top of her sister. Pinned by the weight, Hiroko screeched and wriggled as Mayuri made a show of preparing to spit on her. 

“Oh my god, stop! That’s disgusting! Get off!” Suddenly, she stopped laughing, throat constricting around a sudden surge of panic. It felt like the walls were beginning to close in around her, and there was just too much happening all at once. Mayuri’s weight on her chest seemed to increase, cutting off her air and suffocating her. She couldn’t seem to breath. Her voice turned serious, dangerous, as she snapped, “Get off, Mayuri. Stop! _GET OFF!”_

Mayuri froze, her eyes going wide as she watched her sister gasp for breath, eyes glassy. She moved to the side, letting Hiroko sit up to try to catch her breath. She snarled at her when Mayuri tried to touch her, eyes wild and unfocused. Mayuri froze, hands fluttering uselessly around Hiroko before she pulled them back. They ended up sitting in silence until it was over and her breathing evened out and the walls stopped threatening to crush her. 

“You okay?” Mayuri whispered, monotone, her legs pulled up to her chest. The sound of her voice seemed to echo off the stone walls of the room. The flickering torchlight sent dancing shadows across the etchings on the walls and across their faces, making everything seem off. 

Hiroko shook her head. “That’s such a stupid question. Of course I’m not okay. Have you looked around you!? Do you not see where we are? What the _fuck_ is even going on?” 

Mayuri shrugged, and when Hiroko focused on her face, she realized that her sister wasn’t looking at her at all. Her eyes were unfocused and far away, her face strangely blank as she thought. After a second, she shrugged again, her eyes unclouding and a strange grin taking over her features. Hiroko almost prefered the blank look.

“Honestly, I’m not even sure any of this is real,” she announced, too cheerful, too calm. Hiroko stared at her, mouth twisted and stomach dropping at her sister’s words. 

She forced herself to calm down, then offered a shaky smile, voice strained as she muttered, “If _I’m_ disassociating and _you’re_ disassociating, then who’s going to fly the plane?”

As she watched, Mayuri’s face seemed to crumple. She shook her head, eyes squeezed shut. She didn’t bother to acknowledge Hiroko’s attempt at a joke, and her voice broke as she said, “Hey, can you just, like...lay on me for a moment?”

Hiroko frowned, but nodded. They repositioned themselves so that she could flop down on top of Mayuri’s back. She stayed quiet, head resting between Mayuri’s shoulder blades, so much smaller than the last time they had done this. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out the swirl of memories that rose like a sea, threatening to swallow her whole. She focused instead on the sound of her sister’s shuddering breaths, the sound of her heart as it pounded frantically beneath her cheek. It was oddly peaceful.

Hiroko was nearly asleep when Mayuri spoke again. 

“Hey Hiro, what happened to your eye?”

Hiroko pushed down the annoyance that flared up at being jolted out of her first moment of peace since she’d woken up here. Instead, she tried to focus on the conversation. She was surprised it had taken this long for the topic to be broached, honestly. She sighed, ruffling the long black hair that was curled around her face. She wasn’t sure whose hair it was. She would have to get used to them having the same hair color, now. 

“I guess that they were having some trouble with healing it or something. One of the medics said something about a transplant and next thing I know, I’m waking up with bandages on my face.” She shrugged, knowing that the movement would be felt. It had really freaked her out at first, but it wasn’t like she could do anything about it. This body didn’t even feel like hers, really. What was a missing eye in the face of a misplaced soul, after all? 

Mayuri hummed thoughtfully, then mumbled, voice muffled by the thin mattress, “I hope they at least got you a cool eye.”

Hiroko snorted. “It’s hard to say. I don’t know if they’d want to waste some crazy superpowered eye on me.” 

“It wouldn’t be a waste!” Mayuri immediately protested, twisting her head so her voice could be heard more clearly. “You’re super cool and therefore deserve a super cool eye, right? If they’re gonna do a transplant anyways, why not use some...magic one, or whatever?”

“Probably because they didn’t want to stick something that useful into a kid who might die.”

“Oh, yeah.” Mayuri paused, then cleared her throat and reluctantly mumbled, “Hey, you do know where we are, don’t you?”

“I figured it out a few days in. When Kabuto started talking about Orochimaru, well….”

They sighed in synchronicity and spat together, “The _fucking_ Naruto world,” and then marveled over the sound of such harsh words said in such childish voices. 

They fell silent again, both lost in their own dark thoughts. Hiroko could practically hear the gears turning inside her sister’s head, could feel the waves of melancholy rolling off of her. 

“What are you thinking about?” She asked, almost afraid to hear the answer. For a long moment, there was no response, not even a single movement or sound to indicate that Mayuri had heard her. She frowned and opened her mouth to ask again, just as Mayuri heaved a huge sigh and twisted to wriggle out from beneath her. Hiroko let her go, the bed creaking as the sisters moved to sit side by side. 

“I was texting Isaac before I woke up here. Did you know he’s going through his Naruto phase? He was trying to tell me about whatever crazy shit is going down in Shippuden in the latest episodes and I was trying to pretend to be interested. Ironic, isn’t it?” Mayuri whispered, her fingers running idly through her hair, twisting a few strands into tiny, messy braids. Hiroko’s stomach lurched at the mention of their little brother and she pulled her knees up to her chest, resting her chin atop them. She stared at the far wall, eyes glazed as Mayuri kept talking. “I was just trying to remember what the last things I said to him and everyone else were.”

Hiroko had to swallow a few times before she was able to ask, “And? What were they?”

Mayuri shook her head, the motion violent and angry. “I can’t really remember. I wasn’t paying enough attention when I sent the texts or hung up the phone or whatever.” She laughed harshly, and Hiroko turned to watch her tap the side of her head with sharp, quick jabs that looked like they had to hurt. “It’s so stupid, right? I’ve never been good at remembering anything useful, and now that it’s so important my brain is failing me again.” 

Hiroko had the sudden realization that she had seen her sister cry more in the last hour than she would see over the course of several years, Before. She looked away again, uncomfortable. 

“You always made sure to say “I love you” at the end of all your conversations, though. So you at least said that. Don’t worry,” she assured, breathing deeply in an attempt to avoid another panic attack. 

She knew exactly what Mayuri’s last text had been to her. She had read it obsessively after her sister’s death, going over their last conversations over and over again, that last _‘ok. night! love you!!!’_ offering both comfort and pain beyond belief. She had cried for days when, a year after her sister’s death, her phone had been lost and that final message had disappeared with it. 

She still couldn’t figure out how it was possible that they could both be here together. After all, her sister had been dead for over two years. That they were together, here, in this situation...she wasn’t sure if it was fate playing a cruel trick or some kind of twisted karma, or something else entirely. Maybe she was just on one hell of a trip and this was all some sort of twisted delusion. 

She shivered and quickly pushed the thoughts away, focusing again on the situation at hand, on Mayuri’s frustration over her missing memories. It was easier not to think about her own tumultuous emotions and to focus on her sister’s instead.

Even if Mayuri couldn’t remember her own final words, Hiroko knew exactly what the last things _she_ had said to her loved ones were. It was how they had always been; Mayuri could never seem to remember enough and Hiroko would always remember far too much, things they each wished desperately they could forget or recall, the ability to do so seemingly just out of reach. 

She hated it. They both did.

Before she could think further on it, Mayuri interrupted her thoughts with a quiet, “Hiro, did they tell you what happened to our mama here?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Oh, good. I was worried I would have to be the one to break the news to you.”

Hiroko made a quiet noise and tossed her hair, her eyes drawn to the flickering shadows on the wall. She didn’t want to look at her sister, afraid of what she might see on her face while she asked, “Any idea how it happened? Kabuto told me you were awake when she died.” Even if half of her mind said that the woman who had died was a stranger, the other half still loved her desperately, and she wanted to know how she had died. It felt wrong to not know, like she was dishonoring her memory by remaining ignorant. 

She felt Mayuri shift, moving closer until they were pressed together. She was cold, as always, but Hiroko didn’t mind. She had always burned like a furnace and her sister had always taken advantage of the fact. She certainly had no problem sharing her warmth with her perpetually-cold sister. 

When she spoke, Mayuri’s voice was hard and emotionless. “Orochimaru killed her. She was trying to smuggle you and me out of here, and he caught us. It was fast.” She leaned to rest her head on Hiroko’s shoulder, her quiet voice right next to her ear as she said, “I don’t think mama even saw it coming.” 

Hiroko shivered but did not pull away. She sighed and leaned her head to rest on top of her sister’s, squeezing her eyes shut. She didn’t want to be here and wished so desperately that she could pretend they were somewhere else, somewhere safe. 

Her heart clenched at the thought, something like ghostly fingers brushing her arm and the memory of warmth and safely in someone’s arms. Her mind couldn’t seem to distinguish between memories of her mother Before and this mother’s smiles and soft words, and that felt like a betrayal.

She pushed those thoughts away, only to have them replaced with memories of a man, his fingers trailing down her back and gently through her hair as morning light trailed in through the windows of the apartment. Somehow, it felt almost worse to have such thoughts running through her mind, the pain like a razor slicing through her heart. In that moment, she wished for some way to forget. She knew she’d give anything for the chance to get blackout drunk. 

“We’ll need to find some way to tell which mom we’re talking about, right?” she asked, too loud in the quiet room. She needed some way to push away those thoughts or else they would consume her again, just as they had been for the last week. 

“I’ve actually been thinking about it!” Mayuri exclaimed, bouncing a little on the mattress and sending Hiroko bouncing as well. “What do you think of _The Other Mother_?” 

When Hiroko looked at her, her sister was grinning broadly, like she had just told an especially clever joke. She wiggled her eyebrows and did jazz hands, smile never faltering as the seconds ticked by. Finally, it clicked, and while Hiroko groaned, Mayuri burst into loud laughter. 

“I haven’t watched Coraline in years! How did you even remember that?” 

“I dunno. I just always thought it was catchy, I guess. Maybe the rhyming thing helped, but that’s beside the point! What do you think of it for distinguishing between them? Mom would just be mom, and this mom would be Other Mother!” She wiggled her eyebrows again and Hiroko laughed, shoving her away. Mayuri fell back, giggling as she bounced against the mattress, sending it creaking again. 

“Wasn’t the Other Mother evil, though? This mother wasn’t mean or anything. Just...different, I guess,” Hiroko pointed out.

Mayuri hummed, mouth twisting as she considered that. “Well, it doesn’t have to mean anything. I just figured it would be a snappy way to distinguish between them.”

Hiroko shrugged. “Sounds good to me, I guess.”

They lapsed into silence again, until the bed creaked. Hiroko looked over towards her sister, who had shifted to prop herself up on her elbow. She was staring at her with narrowed eyes, and when she had her attention, Mayuri patted the space beside her. Hiroko sighed but laid down in the small space, and Mayuri quickly drew the blanket up over both of them and shoved her icy feet against Hiroko’s leg. 

“You’re rude as fuck!” she hissed, flinching away from the icecube-like appendage. Mayuri laughed quietly, but withdrew her foot. Hiroko knew that as soon as she relaxed, she’d be used as a heating pad again. She didn’t really mind so much, though. This close to her sister, she could feel herself relaxing for the first time in days. It was nice. 

“Hey, Hiro?” Mayuri whispered, rolling onto her side so that she was facing away. Hiroko hummed, sleep already weighing heavily on her mind, pulling her down into its comforting grip at last. “I love you.” 

Hiroko swallowed around the lump in her throat, trying to shove down the sense of foreboding that those simple words conjured. “Yeah, I love you too.” 

“Good. No matter what happens tomorrow, I’m just glad you know that. We’ll be okay.”

She didn’t respond, unable to speak around the tightness of her throat. Instead, she just shifted closer, pressing herself against her sister and soaking up the comfort that another living body could bring. She fell asleep to the sound of soft crying.

.

An hour later, neither girl stirred as gas began to seep in through the vents, filling the small room with a purple haze that would ensure neither of them would wake up until it was time for the experiments to begin.

.

The next time she opened her eyes, Mayuri was alone and strapped down again. She stared in confusion at the blurry, distant ceiling, trying to figure out what was happening. When the door creaked open, she turned her head to stare at the medic who was fast approaching. She recognized the woman’s long black braid and dark skin.

“Emi-san, what’s going on? Where’s my sister?”

The medic stood by her, staring down at her with a distant, sad expression. She brushed back a strand of midnight black hair from Mayuri’s face, gently took a hold of her hand, and said, “I’m sorry about this, Mayuri-chan.”

And then she began snapping the delicate bones.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I'm posting this after being awake for almost 23 hours and running on four hours of sleep, so if you see any errors, please let me know so I can fix them! On that note, I'm looking for a beta or two. If you're interested, just let me know and we can talk. 
> 
> Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed meeting Hiroko at last! I'm still getting a handle on her character and personality, so I'd really appreciate any feedback you have!


	8. Frozen Hearts Worth Saving

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again, everyone, and welcome back!
> 
> In this chapter we get to see more of Hiroko's PoV as well as some world building after a PoV shift. If these PoV changes ever come across as confusing or don't flow nicely, feel free to let me know! As a warning, in this chapter and the ones following it there will be human experimentation and torture featured heavily. 
> 
> Thank you so much to those of you who have left kudos and who have bookmarked this story! It means a lot to me! You are the ones who keep me inspired to write. (Although if you ever wanted to inspire me a little more, feel free to leave a review!) I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Hiroko woke up to the sound of crying. Her first thought was of Mayuri, of the way she had broken down so many times and the way she had been crying even while they drifted off to sleep. Still half-asleep, she moved to sit up, planning to find her sister and do what little she could to comfort her, but found she couldn’t move.

Her heart began to pound too fast, her stomach twisting as the world narrowed down to tunnel vision. She was strapped down, _again_ , and she wasn’t sure if she would be able to survive any more time in isolation. It had almost broken her, all that time to obsess over her own thoughts and the mix of memories, visited only by medics who poked and prodded and looked at her with empty eyes as her angry screams turned to broken pleas as the days marched on, unmoved by her tears. 

“Yuri?” she called, voice cracking and echoing off of the high ceilings. It was only then, as the crying quieted briefly before starting anew, louder than before, that she realized that the voices she heard were not her sister. 

She was hyperventilating, vision going dark at the edges and her head spinning. She gasped and let her head fall to the side, the movement making her neck twinge painfully. The room spun around her. She had to squeeze her eyes shut to quell the surge of nausea, but in the brief glimpse she had managed to get of the room, what she had seen had chilled her to the bones.

Spread out on either side of her were rows of other cots, each one with a tiny form strapped down on it. There were medics crawling through the spaces left between cots like ants, each tending to a patient, examining the charts at the base of each cot and fiddling with the bags of liquid that hung beside each child. They left silence in their wake.

She focused on her breathing, trying to keep herself from passing out or throwing up. When she opened her eyes, she noticed the bags hung above her own head, tracing the tubes down to her arms. One looked like blood, and she didn’t want to even think about where they might have gotten it from. Did they know anything about matching blood types? _She_ didn’t even know what her blood type was, for fuck’s sake! 

The second bag was full of a luminescent blue liquid, which seemed to glow even in the dim lighting of the room. Her eyes caught on it and she wondered what it could possibly be. In another situation, she might have thought it beautiful. As it was, it looked like it was probably radioactive, and she wanted it nowhere near her body. 

The last IV that was hooked up to her seemed to lead to a simple saline solution. She was a little glad that she could at least identify this one, though it didn’t make her feel any better to see that hint of familiarity. The final bag, though it had yet to be connected to her body, was what left her feeling queasiest. It was bright green, bringing to mind snot or vomit if it had been turned toxic, and she was certain that if they tried to shove that shit into her blood she’d lose her mind for real. 

By the time a medic reached her, the panic attack had subsided, leaving her exhausted and lethargic. She stared up at the man, taking in the thin line of his mouth and the depths of his eyes. He seemed resigned, as though orchestrating the suffering of children was just a normal tuesday for him. Which, maybe it was, but Hiroko certainly didn’t want to think like that. 

She licked her lips and asked, “Is Mayuri okay? Is she here?”

The medic didn’t so much as look at Hiroko, his attention focused on the bags as he fiddled with the valves. Hiroko felt a strange burning sensation as the various drips started and bit back the whimper that wanted to escape her throat—she hadn’t even realized they hadn’t been running yet. Slowly, as the medic fiddled with the glowing blue liquid, the burning turned cold, unbearable and painful and filling her entire body until it was all she could feel. 

As the feeling of ice flowing through her veins filled her, she couldn’t hold back the horrified cry. At the sound, the medic finally spared her a glance. 

“You will sleep soon, don’t worry,” he said, voice quiet and monotonous. 

“Am I going to die?” The question was out before she could think about it, quiet and frightened and horribly lifeless already. The medic shrugged, gaze turning away from Hiroko again as he twisted another valve on the IV bags. Hiroko choked on another cry as another wash of ice was injected into her veins. 

“People die every day,” the medic declared, his brown eyes not turning back towards Hiroko. He seemed to be speaking to the air, eyes hard but not really focused on anything. “As you are, Orochimaru-sama has apparently found you lacking. If you survive this treatment, then perhaps you will be of some worth.” 

Hiroko snorted. “I don’t need you to tell me I’m worthless. Even with whatever freaky powers you’re trying to give me, I’m not going to start kissing the asshole’s ass overnight. I don’t care what he does anymore. He _killed_ my mother! He’s keeping me and my sister here against our will!” 

At last, the man whirled on her, dark eyes alight with fury as he hissed, “You _will not_ speak of our lord that way! He sought you out, troublesome little brat you are, and you owe your life, your very being to him! We all do.” Just as quickly, though, his expression softened. He reached out and gently brushed a strand of hair out of Hiroko’s face. She shrunk away from the touch, stomach clenching. When he spoke again, his voice was softer and more sad. “I know that you’re scared right now, but when all of this is over you’ll understand. For now, just sleep. It will be over soon.”

And with one last turn of a valve, the medic strode away. Hiroko watched him go, black already creeping into the edges of her vision. She opened her mouth to shout, to demand that the man come back and tell her what was happening and to scream her anger to the world, but no sound came out. 

She fell under with hate bubbling in her throat.

.

The room was quiet the next time she woke up. 

It took her a moment of bleary, confused staring to realize that it was because half the cots were now vacant. Strangely enough, looking at the places where children had been, she just felt empty and numb.

She felt cold.

There was a man moving through the empty cots, examining the sheets, lifting up blankets that were covered in what looked like blood. As he held a white sheet up to the light, the blood on it seemed to glisten like ice crystals. Hiroko stared at it, mesmerized by the sight.

He moved slowly towards her, a smile on his lips and blood on his hands. Was he going to kill her, too?

She watched him come closer, empty cots left in his wake and bloodied blankets gathered in his arms. They were stiff, frozen, and the bloodied ridges looked sharp enough to cut as they glistened in the flickering lights. She hoped he sliced off every one of his murderous fingers on the blood of all those children. 

Suddenly, Kabuto stepped in front of her, blocking her view of the man. She stared up at him, cold and sharp and hoping that he could feel her hatred radiating off of her. He stared back, and his eyes were empty. She wondered if he felt anything at all.

“How are you feeling, Hiroko-chan?” he asked, fingers pressed to her wrist as he took her pulse. Then, he frowned slightly and hummed, seeming concerned as he said, “It feels like your temperature might be running abnormally high. 

Hiroko tried to tell him to go fuck himself, but found that the tube shoved down her throat stopped anything but a rasping groan from escaping. Kabuto seemed to get the message, though, because he withdrew his hand and that awful smile returned. He stepped back and grabbed a clipboard from the end of her cot. He flipped through it, looking for all the world like every other doctor she had ever seen. 

Except of course for the fact he was probably not even 13 years old. Hiroko scowled and turned her head away so she wouldn’t have to look at him, eyes watering as the tubes shifted with the movement. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of the glowing green goo and realized that that was what was being forced down her throat. She moaned, angry and horrified. 

“Well Hiroko-chan, it looks like you’re responding very well to the treatments,” Kabuto announced cheerfully, paper rustling as he scanned the contents of what she assumed was her file. She kept her face stubbornly turned away, ignoring the pressure building against the walls of her throat from the tubes pulled taut. He continued, undeterred, “Out of the entire group, you have the strongest clan bloodline. It seems that such things really do have an effect on these things. All those without links to the Yuki clan have died.” 

Hiroko choked on a half-formed sob, squeezing her eyes closed. She had only seen it briefly, but she remembered the face of the baby that had been asleep on the cot beside her own. The place he had been lying was empty. 

“Yuri?” she managed to gurgle, the sound of her sister’s name distorted and ugly as it climbed out of her throat. 

“I’m sorry, Hiroko-chan. I didn’t quite catch that. Would you face me and try again?” He sounded so disgustingly smug. She hated him.

Biting back her pride, she snapped her face back towards him, glaring. The movement was so harsh that the tubes tugged again, gagging her as she attempted again to force Mayuri’s name past the obstruction. The taste of metal, rotting meat, and something chemical danced on her tongue as she coughed, green liquid dotting her lips. Kabuto’s smile never faltered.

“Ah, you’re asking about your sister? Last I knew, she was still alive, but hasn’t yet taken to the treatments that have been administered. In that regard, you’re the more successful of the subjects.” He paused, feigning thoughtfulness and then revelation, as though a thought had only just occurred to him. “Ah, if I remember correctly, Mayuri-chan is actually the only surviving member of her group. It would seem that for _that_ power, more than a simple bloodline connection might be required. I’m afraid we might have wasted your potential by having you as a part of the Hyoton Experiments.” 

He met her eye, drinking in the emotions that flashed across her features as his words sunk in. His smile was vicious and cruel, his eyes cold and empty behind his round glasses. It was infuriating, and Hiroko’s emotions seemed to swirl between horror and rage. She gurgled again, managing a strangled, “Fuck...you!” 

Kabuto shook his head, tutting. “Didn’t your mother ever tell you not to speak with your mouth full? Oh, well. I suppose it doesn’t matter anymore, seeing as she’s not around.” 

Hiroko snarled, eye glinting with anger and something more. Kabuto shivered as the temperature around them began to rapidly drop. His eyes gleamed. “Oh my, it seems as though you’re making even more progress than I thought. Now is not the time, though. I think you would do well to get some more rest, Hiroko-chan.” 

She let out a strangled scream, thrashing angrily against the restraints as he reached for the IV bags that would surely put her under once more. Frost began to creep along the bedsheets and the bare skin of her arms. Kabuto paused, head tilted curiously to the side as his breaths became visible and frost appeared on his gloved hands. He raised a hand to the light, twisting it this way and that to examine the ice crystals that glistened there. Then, he really looked at her, eyes thoughtful and assessing.

“Orochimaru-sama will be quite pleased to hear of this new development. Good work, Hiroko-chan. Now, sleep.” 

He fiddled with the IV bags, and ice rushed to fill her veins once again, burning worse than any flame. The green goo rushed down her throat, overflowing from her mouth and trickling down the sides of her face like vomit. She felt herself choking on it, felt the thick liquid seep into her hair and escape through her nose, suffocating her. All the while, Kabuto didn’t tear his eyes away as he smiled down at her and pulled on a new pair of gloves. 

Hiroko lost consciousness, wondering if this would be how she died yet again.

.

Emi had joined Orochimaru because he was the first person to ever want her. She had grown up an orphan who followed the only path she could; the path of the shinobi. She had learned medical ninjutsu there, and had found that she was good at it. She had excelled, even, climbing ranks in her tiny village on the border of Waterfall country. 

But even her talent couldn’t change the fact that she was born a nobody and would die the same way. She had no bloodline, no clan, not even a family name. Those above her looked at her, and even as she saved their lives and their blood coated her hands, they still saw nothing more than garbage. 

Orochimaru had seen her, though. He had smiled and asked her if she would join him in creating a new home. He had painted a beautiful scene in her mind, a home where everyone was equal regardless of status or lineage. If they were willing to work hard, to listen and learn, they would become strong and capable people, accepted by all. They would become family, comrades, and everything that a village was meant to be. 

Of course she had gone with him, barely sparing a glance for the place she was leaving behind. The sweet tale he spun for her was everything she had ever longed for, everything she had dreamed of as a lonely child in an overcrowded orphanage. 

The village he was working hard to create was nestled in the Land of Rice Paddies, and it was colder than anywhere she had ever lived before. The tunnels that comprised the village were dark and dank, sucking all the warmth from her bones. The smiles that the scant handful of people living there had given her made it worth it, though. 

The man who had been assigned to show her around her new home had talked cheerfully the whole while, explaining the tunnel system and how chores and missions were distributed. He had introduced her to so many people it made her head spin. They all had the same hungry look in their eyes, the same longing for acceptance she had seen when she looked in the mirror for as long as she could remember. But there was also a spark of life in their eyes that she had never seen in her own. 

She longed, more than anything, for that same spark.

For the first time in her life, she had been accepted. The people of Orochimaru’s little village saw her abilities and her personality and they welcomed her and treated her like she was just as important as anyone else. She was one of the first medics to be invited into the village, and she was respected for it. They didn’t question her blood or judge her based only on her heritage or even ask her for a family name. It was nice.

There were people there from clans, too, but if they saw the people around them as lesser because of their blood, she never heard anything about it. Of course, most of the clan members that Orochimaru took in were from clans that had been destroyed. Their members had been hunted to extinction or scattered to the wind by war or fear or disease or whatever else it was that could bring ancient and powerful bloodlines to their knees. They had no reason to brag or look down upon their fellow villagers, who were there on Orochimaru’s good graces, the same as them. 

Emi knew that this place could be a home, and those living there the family she had always longed for. She was happier than she had ever been before, overjoyed to help her new village to grow and flourish with her medical skills, just as she had dreamed of doing when she was a child.

That is, until the experiments started. 

When the first batch of children were brought in, sobbing and begging to leave, she had been confused. Orochimaru had invited children into the village before, but never in droves, and never against their will. She had looked to the head medic, a child prodigy named Kabuto, for answers, but he had simply instructed her to create medical charts for each of the children and then leave. 

She had done as she was ordered and tried to push the thoughts of terrified faces to the back of her mind. She never saw any of those children again and just hoped that they had been sent back to wherever they had come from. It was easier to pretend that things were still okay when she didn’t think too hard about it.

Over time, she was asked to help with more and more experiments. Each time, she was ordered to do just a little more than she had done the time before. She knew exactly what was going on, of course. She had experienced the same thing in her time at the academy, getting the blood of rabbits and deer on her hands, numbing her to the act of killing, working her way up to it until even human blood beneath her fingernails didn’t faze her. 

It didn’t mean that she wasn’t disgusted with herself when she realized that it was working. The thought of pumping unknown, usually deadly chemicals into sleeping infants and slicing open the bellies of still screaming children had become a part of her daily routine. Without even noticing it, the horror of her actions had slipped past her conscience, seeming normal, if a bit sad. 

She didn’t even take note of the names of the children anymore. If Orochimaru had ordered this to be done, then she was confident that it was for the best. If it would help her village, then she was more than willing to get her hands dirty. The crying children barely phased her anymore and it had become easy to pretend that the way their sad eyes followed her into her nightmares didn’t bother her. 

It was different this time, though. 

Emi stared down at Mayuri as she slept, the sedatives pumped into her bloodstream keeping her unaware of the pain of broken bones and the places where they had pushed through her skin. It was difficult to ignore the urge to either heal her or kill her, years of medic training telling her that it wasn’t right to leave someone to suffer like this. 

Unlike the children before, Emi had gotten the chance to get to know Mayuri. She had spoken with her, comforted her, walked her to the bathroom and held her hand. Before, she had only performed the experiments and walked away when it was finished. She had never spoken with the subjects or tried to get them to laugh or wiped away their tears when they cried.

She trusted Orochimaru to have the best interests of his people in mind. She knew that if Mayuri survived she would become a great asset to the village as well as a wielder of a power that others could only dream of, and would have opportunities gifted to her because of it. Things would be better for her in the long run. That didn’t make the suffering she had to inflict upon the little girl she had come to know any easier to stomach, though. 

Emi knew that it was foolish to allow herself to grow attached, but she couldn’t seem to numb herself to what she was doing this time around. 

With a sigh, she stopped the flow of sedatives and upped the amount of the experimental chemicals being used for the Shikotsumyaku Experiments. She watched as they surged into the girl’s veins, the delicate skin of her forearm glowing a faint green before the potent chemicals dispensed through her bloodstream. While she was still asleep, Emi removed the feeding tube. The girl didn’t need any unnecessary discomfort, after all. 

Emi braced herself as Mayuri moaned, twitching as consciousness began to come back to her. With it, the pain of thirteen broken bones left untreated. She waited for the screaming to begin yet again.

Instead, she found herself looking into a pair of glazed green eyes as an eerie silence settled over the room. Over the last few days, she had watched those eyes become darker and more distant. The gaze that had once met her own head on, sharp and full of life, had become nothing more than a haunted, empty stare.

Mayuri mumbled something, her words barely intelligible. Emi leaned closer, close enough that when the little girl spoke, her breath ghosted across her cheek. 

“Why can’t you just kill me already?”

“I’m sorry. It’s for the best, Mayuri-chan. I know it hurts now, but things will be okay.” She smoothed her hand across the girl’s sweaty forehead, pushing away the black strands that clung there. The girl was burning with fever and likely half delirious with pain, but Emi couldn’t help but feel her heart clench at the broken words. She forced a smile and said, “After all, if you died, how would your sister feel?” 

Bringing up Hiroko always seemed to bring some level of comfort to the little girl. Though her eyes did not clear, a tiny smile twitched at the corners of her lips. She stared somewhere beyond Emi, caught in her own thoughts. 

“She’s still alive?” 

“Yeah, and she’s doing really well. Your sister is going to pull through this and become strong, so you have to, too. Do you understand?” 

Mayuri still did not look at her, but Emi couldn’t blame her for it. The little girl did not cry, but her eyes were glassy with unshed tears. Her breath hitched, her muscles spasming in pain as the sedatives continued to be filtered out of her bloodstream, allowing the pain to rush back in. Her broken fingers were trembling and blood oozed slowly from her leg where her tibia had pierced through her skin. Her shaking had reopened the wound, it seemed. 

Emi let her hands smooth soothingly over the smooth skin of the child’s cheek, trailing gently past her neck and down to rest on her ribcage. She could feel the girl’s heart fluttering weakly in her chest, and could feel as it picked up speed.

“You’ll pull through, Mayuri-chan,” she promised. “Just keep holding on, just for a little while longer.” As she spoke, voice soft and soothing, she applied pressure to the little girl’s ribs. She listened to her whimper and shushed her gently, trying to push down the guilt that rose in her chest. She carefully applied just the right amount of chakra to crack three ribs, and didn’t wince when Mayuri screamed.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back, everyone! First off, let me again thank everyone who leaves kudos and bookmarks this story! It means a whole lot to me! It's been a really rough week, so you all are the ones who inspire me and make sure I keep writing and updating! 
> 
> Second, this chapter is going to be dealing with some dark stuff yet again. Suicidal thoughts, mentions of self harm, and death. These are things that will very likely appear in later chapters as well. If anyone needs me to specifically mention in future chapters when these topics come up again, leave me a comment to let me know. If not, then I'll use this note to cover this chapter as well as all future ones. 
> 
> Last, please keep America in your thoughts and prayers tonight. This election is a rough one and has a lot of people scared, myself included. 
> 
> Please enjoy the chapter.

Hiroko was aware of voices, muffled and distant. Shapes and colors appeared before her, moving in and out of her line of sight, and then disappearing at the same time that the voices did. She breathed, in and out, careful and uncertain because every breath felt too heavy and hung in her lungs. They burned, like she was inhaling salt water, and she felt like she was weightless. She felt like she was drowning without dying.

It took her a long while to come to the realization that that was exactly what was happening. 

She was floating in a test tube, suspended and helpless. It was nearly impossible to move, and she felt no hunger, no pain, no exhaustion or energy, not much of anything at all. It was like everything about her had been frozen. All she could do was float there, the gentle currents of the thick, goopy liquid making her hair sway and tangle around her. Sometimes, if she focused really hard, she could make her fingers curl and uncurl and her eyes slide to track the blurred shapes moving outside her pod.

As she adjusted to being surrounded by the luminescent blue liquid, the movements and sounds all around her began to make more sense. She could make out the words being spoken, distorted and echoing as they were. She could figure out what the blurred blobs and muted colors came together to create around her. She could see the identical pods beside her and across from her, holding more children within their murky depths.

She watched, only half aware, barely even a person anymore, as people crowded the pods around her. They took the children inside them away, one-by-one. Watching them disappear was the only way she knew that any time was passing at all. Slowly, the numbers dwindled down. She watched with bleary eyes as the people outside swarmed the tank across from her, taking the limp body of the child inside and carting it away. She felt strange pressure in the air around her as someone outside her pod yelled, and the liquid she resided in rippled with the force of it. In response, something inside of her seemed to awaken, to sing. It was a bone-deep surge of warmth, filling up her insides and rushing through her veins. The glass of her pod frosted over, but the strange thrumming inside her body kept her warm.

It wasn’t long before she was the only one left. The pods around her were left empty, and she was left to float there, aware but not fully awake. The heat inside her veins continued to hum, and she was vaguely aware that that was perhaps the only thing keeping her alive. Looking at the empty vessels all around her, she felt an aching sorrow settle in her breast, but couldn’t quite put her finger on why. When she tried to think on it, her mind shied away, and so instead she let herself drift along with the current. 

.

The vibrations of the liquid were what brought her back to awareness, and the heady thrumming of a power that seemed to chafe against her own. She refocused herself, tried to pull the fragments of her personality back together into one being, and did her best to understand what was happening around her. 

“It’s a pity that there was only one survivor.” A voice, rasping and soft, filtered through to her, surprisingly clear. The water caused it to echo and amplify, filling her senses. Her eyes rolled, trying to find the source of the voice. 

“I have to wonder if it was just dumb luck, or if there’s something special about her,” a second voice interjected. “After all, her sister hasn’t adapted to the introduced genes nearly as well.”

A surge of confusion coursed through her, leaving her head aching and her thoughts muddled. Something heavy settled in her stomach. There were a million half-formed thoughts spinning through her mind, slow and disjointed. His words...what could they mean? Was her sister alright? What did he mean by saying that she was special; that she had _adapted?_

“Now Kabuto, you of all people should know that the intensity of the two experiments were very different,” the first voice simpered, though it did not sound truly reproachful. Just vaguely amused. “After all, Hyoton is actually fairly common within members of the clan. Shikotsumyaku, however…” He trailed off, and the quiet noise of amusement he made echoed through the liquid. It raised goosebumps along her flesh and made the weight in her stomach turn into something yawning and dark with trepidation; a lizard-brain that somehow knew that the sound meant something bad. “—well, you saw how they treated the old woman. The ability is rare enough to be feared as much as it is revered, and it makes sense that it would be significantly harder to cultivate.”

Kabuto hummed thoughtfully. “Yes, I suppose that is true. It’s remarkable, though, that out of dozens of subjects, only this one survived the treatments.”

“True. It would seem that the others lacked a certain...shall we say, _spark_?” He sounded so casual, perhaps even amused, as though the deaths of multitudes of babies meant absolutely nothing to him. “They were able to develop the abilities and yet unable to survive the effects. It’s such a shame.”

Out of all of those children, she was the only survivor? Hiroko felt a chill climb her spine. Inside her, the heat seemed to flare in response, and the liquid surrounding her began to turn slowly to frozen slush. She didn’t _want_ that weight resting upon her shoulders. She didn’t think she would be able to bear it. If she was the only one to survive, what would that mean for her? What did Orochimaru want from her, now that he knew his fucked up little experiments has worked on her?

“Oh my, it seems we’ve woken her up,” the man hissed, and she could see his ghostly outline as he stepped closer to her pod. His lips were curled up into a sickening grin, the dark line of his mouth starkly visible against the frightening paleness of his face. Even through the blue slush that surrounded her, the gold of his eyes was still bright, flashing as he stepped into the glow that her pod emitted. He seemed otherworldly, something not quite human and all the more horrifying for it. If she could have, Hiroko would have run as far away from him as she possibly could. Instead, she was frozen by fear and weighted down by guilt and horror, stuck staring at his monstrous visage and unable to tear herself away or even retreat to the far side of the tank. 

“I do wonder if there are any links to what happened with the reanimation jutsu,” Kabuto said, still outside of her line of sight. “After all, you’ve tried twice more since then, and neither attempt has been successful, has it, Orochimaru-sama?” 

His tone was mild, but she could hear the slightly mocking nature to it. Orochimaru’s eyes narrowed, but he did not rise to the bait. Faintly, Hiroko wandered what exactly the silver haired boy could be trying to do by angering such a powerful man.

And, shit, wasn’t that strange? She was internally debating on what thoughts could be running through two fictional characters’ heads, when just two weeks ago, she hadn’t so much as thought about Naruto since middle school. She felt like something inside of her was breaking. This was all so _fucked up._

Laughter bubbled up in her chest, manifesting in a stream of bubbles escaping her mouth before the liquid rushed in, filling her throat. 

The action made her laugh more, because she was effectively drowning, yet she somehow _couldn’t fucking die._ Wasn’t that irony? Ever since she had woken up here, she had been feeling the crush of her own overwhelming existence and she wasn’t sure if she could handle it anymore. She wanted for it to all just stop. Wouldn’t it be so much easier that way? The people here wouldn’t be able to hurt her anymore, if she could just close her eyes, if she could just… _stop._

It was the first time in a long time that she found herself thinking it might be better if she just didn’t exist. After _years_ of working and _recovering_ and hanging onto her own sense of self by her fingertips, it was a couple of stupid anime villains who were only steps away from dragging her back into that dark and empty place. The absurdity, the irony, the absolute and total _unfairness_ of it all was enough to send her further into hysterics. 

She could feel their eyes on her as she convulsed, swallowing mouthful after mouthful of toxic blue liquid, feeling it burning her eyes and throat and filling her lungs and belly. She knew what it felt like to drown, had almost died of it once (she had almost died a lot of ways, once) and this feeling was so close to how it had been then. But her mind refused to shut itself down, the darkness didn’t swallow her, and she couldn’t find any peace from the fever dream that her life had begun to become. 

The ice continued to form, sharp edges brushing against her bare flesh, but she couldn’t feel the sting of them over the heat that burned through her body. Distantly, she could hear raised voices over the crackling of the ice. A sharp cracking noise, rippling through what was left of the liquid in her pod. A crack appeared in the glass, sharp and jagged, and she focused on it and tried to force the ice there, to force the glass to further destabilize. Like a bottle of alcohol stuck in the freezer for far too long, the glass wasn’t able to handle the rapid change in temperature or the increase in volume that it held. 

Just a little more, just a little more pressure, and it would break and the jagged edges would be _right there_ and she would be able to convince herself that she was alive, with blood all around and it would finally start to _make sense again,_ and then—

And then a thick purple substance filtered into her pod, billowing around her like a cloud. The edges of her vision began to go black, pulling her down into the oblivion that she craved, but _not how she wanted!_ She tried to scream, but her liquid-filled lungs couldn’t produce a single sound. 

She struggled against the darkness, head thrown back and mouth gaping, ice forming all around her and freezing the strands of her hair into violent, wild spikes. She heard Orochimaru’s laughter, violent and full of triumph and a twisted sort of delight. Somehow, far away, she could swear that she heard the screaming of children. She wanted to scream with them, wanted to hear her own cries reverberate and resonate with theirs. She wanted them to _know_ that she never wanted this and that she felt their pain. Maybe then, if they knew how sorry she was that she had survived, some of this guilt might be lifted from her shoulders. 

She fell under to the sound of shattering glass.  
.

Mayuri was whimpering, her voice long since lost to the screaming days before. Emi had done what she could to keep the child alive, making sure that the gaping wounds where the bones had punctured through her flesh wouldn’t bleed out and trying her best to ensure that the shock and adrenaline that accompanied each break didn’t end up killing her. Still, all the strain couldn’t be good for a child. It wouldn’t be good for anyone, if she was being honest with herself.

As the days passed and Mayuri showed no signs of improvement, Emi had worried. But Mayuri was the only one of the experimental group that was still alive, who hadn’t bled out or whose body hadn’t been consumed by bones growing too quickly, bursting through skin and organs and nervous systems. That had to mean something, didn’t it? Out of all the subjects, surely this one had the best chance of survival, being directly related to one of the clan members in possession of the kekkei genkai. Emi wasn’t sure if that was how it really worked or not, but she still did her best to cling to the hope that things would turn out alright for the little girl.

When she went to break the 27th bone, Mayuri’s ankle tiny and fragile beneath her hands, she found herself pleasantly surprised. She squeezed, twisted, applied just the right amount of pressure and chakra, just like all the times before. Although the tender flesh bruised and bled beneath her hands, there was no telltale crack of a delicate bone snapping. 

“Do you feel that, Mayuri-chan?” she asked, excitement coursing through her. Mayuri made no move to answer, just whimpered softly, glazed eyes rolling in their sockets. Emi turned away to make a few marks on the clipboard that was kept on the little table beside the cot. She was grinning, bright and happy. “This means that it’s working! Just a little more, and soon, you’ll—”

She heard Mayuri rasp out a soft, desperate, “ _No more!_ ” before a now-familiar hair-raising sound stopped Emi dead in her tracks. She froze, eyes going wide, because she hadn’t touched Mayuri! How were her bones breaking again? She was afraid to turn around, scared that she’d see the little girl skewered in the same horrifying manner as all the others, pierced through 206 times from the inside. After everything, when they were so goddamned close to a breakthrough, it wouldn’t be _fair_ …. 

With a deep, trembling breath, Emi turned to face the nightmare she was certain would be waiting to haunt her sleepless nights. When she saw Mayuri, whole and unbroken, sitting up on the cot and staring at her hands like she’d never seen them before, Emi’s mouth dropped open in shock. 

“Mayuri-chan, how did you...?” She shook her head, stepping forward. The little girl didn’t move, still staring at her hands like they held answers to the mysteries of the universe. The places where the bones had pierced her skin were still bleeding sluggishly, the cuts that Emi had healed having been reopened when the bones had been pulled back into Mayuri’s body. The binds that had been keeping her restrained to the cot looked like they had been shredded.

“What did I…how—?” the little girl breathed in her hoarse voice, her eyes slowly tracing the lines of her hands. She eyed the oozing wound where her ulna had broken three days back and then stared, fixated, at the fresh blood that streaked her arms and wrists in jagged lines. 

“This is amazing!” Emi gasped, leaning down to get a closer look at the marks. Mayuri flinched back as her space was invaded, a whine escaping her lips. 

“Pl-please don’t! No more,” she whimpered, eyes enormous and full of fear. Emi felt the guilt surge up again, stronger than before, because she had never wanted this little girl to fear her like this. She moved slowly closer, only centimeters away, preparing to scoop Mayuri up as soon as her fears were soothed.

(She had never wanted any of them to fear her. She had never wanted to hurt any of them.)

“Hey, it’ll be alright,” she said, reaching out. “I’ll just go get Orochimaru-sama and Kabuto-san and then you can—” 

Her fingers brushed over Mayuri’s hand, gentle and caring. There was a sharp crack and Mayuri’s eyes grew round, filled with tears, and she whimpered again. There was fresh blood, blooming like a flower upon her cheek. 

Emi didn’t notice, too enraptured by the foreign rib cage that had pushed its way into her chest. When Mayuri jolted backwards, trying to scramble away from the horror before her, Emi was dragged along, stuck on the 24 kunai-sharp bones invading her chest and curving around and between her own ribs. 

She could feel her lungs begin to collapse, filling with blood. She choked, and could feel blood as it bubbled up her throat, which in turn began filling up her mouth. Mayuri threw herself backwards again, tumbling off the cot and hitting the floor with a thud. In the process, the curve of her ribs were pulled from Emi’s, a few of them getting stuck on the way out and tearing the medic’s own bones out of her torso. She was reminded, oddly, of flowers sprouting from the ground. Her chest was the dirt and her bones the beautiful red and white flowers.

She choked again, struggling to draw breath as her lungs began to fail her. Somewhere far away, she could hear the sound of a child screaming for help, voice barely a whisper after weeks of abuse. Mayuri was standing before her, towering over her, and that was _funny_ , because Emi didn’t remember lying down. 

“Emi? This...this can’t be real. You’re alright,” the girl was saying, hands fluttering uselessly, face full of horror and a morbid sort of fascination. _Shock_ , her mind reminded, and she didn’t even have the air left to snort out a laugh. Instead, she just coughed a little, and watched more blood bloom across Mayuri’s face and neck. The little girl flinched back, and her babbling went on, trying to assure the dying medic that things were going to turn out okay.

“‘Yuri...chan,” Emi breathed, her voice barely a whisper. The little girl leaned closer, her loose hair tumbling over them both like a curtain and brushing the floor. The tips seemed to soak up the blood that was pooling around them, staining the whites of their clothes but not affecting the dark strands at all. She smiled. “Y-you...you’re a flower,” she said, and watched the way the girl’s face crumpled. “Mayuri,” she gasped, watching her hair soak up blood like roots did water. The red stood in such stark contrast against her grey pallor, against the paleness of her clothes. Her green eyes were bright again, glistening with horror and shock and unshed tears. They reminded her of leaves after a storm, back in her old home. Her smile grew. “L-look at you. You’re a wh-whole goddamn garden.” 

She felt her heart slowing in her chest. She felt numb all over, and far too cold. She was always cold, here. That was one thing she missed about Waterfall—the warmth of the country. 

She wondered if Orochimaru-sama would be proud of her, for being there when Mayuri’s kekkei genkai was awakened. She was glad that the little girl would grow to become strong, and she was glad that her lord would be there to take care of her and would benefit in return.

She was glad—


	10. Nothing To Do For The Dead

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! I want to give a special shout out to my best friend (who goes by Maleficent here on ao3) for helping me out a lot with this story. They've been amazing and patient with every little question and insecurity I've taken to them, and I appreciate the heck out of them. So this chapter is dedicated to them!! Sorry it's not a happier one. 
> 
> On that note, warnings for this chapter are pretty similar to the previous ones. Mentions of death, violence, blood, etc. Honestly, that's probably going to be a recurring theme for a while. Oops.
> 
> As always, dear reader, I hope you enjoy this chapter!

“It’s a shame,” Kabuto sighed from behind her. “She was one of our best medics.” 

His hand clapped down on her shoulder, and Mayuri didn’t so much as flinch. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from the body before her, face peaceful in death and chest a shredded mess of bone and flesh. The blood was still pooling beneath them both, warm and sticky and soaking into the stone floor and into her ruined clothes. It would be hard to remove the stains from either one.

She heard Kabuto tut as he knelt down and took her hand, stretching it towards him so he could inspect the crook of her elbow. 

“You tore out your IVs. That’s dangerous, Mayuri-chan. You’re lucky I’m here to heal it for you.”

At that, a startled laugh burst from her chest. It was barely audible, tight and rasping. He was worried about her arm, when there were literal bones bursting out of her chest? She was bleeding from more places than she could name, and he was worried about her ripping out a couple needles? She tore her eyes away from Emi’s body to watch him with narrowed, empty eyes.

Kabuto jerked his hand back as a jagged bone burst from her forearm. Blood and a strange, clear fluid dripped from the sharp tip and her flesh was torn apart, but the blood was minimal despite the grisly sight. His brow creased with what might have passed as worry if he was anyone else. Mayuri tilted her head, face blank. 

“I need you to focus for me, Mayuri-chan,” Kabuto said, his voice soft and soothing, like someone trying to coax an escaped animal back into its cage. “Try to concentrate on reversing the effects. Pull your bones back in and put them back where they belong. Can you do that for me?”

She didn’t respond, her gaze flickering back down towards Emi. Her eyes fell upon the exposed bones of the woman’s chest again. They were bent at awkward angles, pulled through her flesh and leaving behind ugly gashes. She thought back to her mother and the way her spine had jutted from her severed neck and her staring eyes and wet cheeks. At least Emi’s eyes were closed.

“She’s dead,” Mayuri mumbled. “—so putting the bones back where they belong won’t do any good, will it?” 

“Not _her_ bones, Mayuri-chan. Try to put your _own_ bones back where they belong. Then I can heal you up and you’ll be as good as new, alright?” 

“But…. But she’s dead. Shouldn’t I be, too?” She reached out and brushed a hand over the exposed bone of Emi’s ribs, jerking back as she sliced a finger on a jagged edge. She watched, transfixed, as blood welled up and began to drip down her hand, disappearing into the puddle around her. Then, she touched her own chest, fingers running curiously over the twisting bones. “Aren’t I already dead?”

“No, you’re not. This is the gift that Orochimaru-sama has given to you,” Kabuto told her, his voice just as reverent as the other times he had told her about Orochimaru. She wondered if he actually believed that, or if he just wanted her to think he did. Maybe he thought she looked up to him. 

She looked down at her finger, watched the blood as it continued to drip. Something in her stomach twisted, and she was suddenly very aware of the fact that she was sitting in a puddle of someone else’s blood. Someone that she had just killed. 

She turned towards Kabuto, tears spilling over at last as she looked at him with enormous, horror filled eyes. Her breathing began to pick up, rendering her almost speechless. Still, she managed to gasp out a choked, “Kabuto. I killed her. _I killed her!”_

And suddenly, she was cradled against his chest, too busy trying to keep herself from suffocating to push him away. She let him stroke her hair and rub her back as she sobbed, her bloody fingers clutching at the fabric of his shirt. She heard his sharp intake of breath as she shifted and her exposed bones cut into him. She froze, trembling, all too aware of the blood on her clothes and the way it was staining his, and of each sharp jut of her bones. 

“If you don’t want to hurt anyone, you have to take care of those bones first, Mayuri-chan,” he told her, his voice gentle and relaxed. If she hadn’t been the one causing him the pain, she never would have been able to tell that he was hurt. 

Mayuri squeezed her eyes shut. Kabuto was right, as much as she hated it. If she couldn’t control this then she would just keep hurting people. So carefully, agonizingly, she forced herself to focus on the horrible feeling of her misplaced bones. 

A strange yet familiar surge of power went through her, like something crawling beneath her skin and settling into her bones and nerve endings. She was suddenly hyper-aware of the position of each bone and where they needed to be instead, the realization strangely instinctual. Her hands trembled and she shuddered at the pain of pulling bones back into position. It was close to agony, but certainly not the worst thing she had experienced recently.

She wasn’t sure if there was anything that was going to ever hold a candle to the horror of having her bones repeatedly broken and left untreated. 

So she clenched her jaw and did her best not to cry out as she willed her bones to shift back to where they belonged. Kabuto watched the process with an expression of polite disinterest, though his eyes were narrowed and sharp. By the time all her bones were back in place, Mayuri was covered in sweat and breathing hard. Her limbs were trembling with exhaustion and she felt like she was about to pass out. Kabuto smiled at her, not seeming at all bothered by the shallow cuts that covered his torso and arm. 

“You did very good,” he said kindly as he stood, gathering her up in his arms. Mayuri briefly considered wriggling out of his grip and demanding he let her walk on her own, but the waves of exhaustion rolling over her were enough to still her tongue. She allowed herself to be carried, wondering the whole time at how small and lightweight this body apparently was. It was strange to think that some preteen could haul her around like it was nothing, considering she was used to it being the other way around. 

As he carried her from the room, she realized that she wouldn’t be able to see Emi’s body. She wasn’t sure if she should feel relief or guilt or something else entirely about that fact. Mostly, she just felt tired and empty. It felt like something hollow and dark was resting heavily behind her breastbone, just waiting for the right moment to escape from her chest and swallow her whole.

“Where are you taking me?” she whispered, her eyes going in and out of focus as they passed through the hallways. It was easy to zone out when the scenery was all the same, only interrupted by the flickering shadows of passing torches. She fought the urge to allow herself to drift off into an exhaustion-fueled sleep. 

“I’m going to take you to the bathroom so you can wash yourself off. I’ll heal you, and then I’ll take you to see your sister after you rest for a little bit.” 

Mayuri hummed and nodded, cheek rubbing uncomfortably against the rough material of his shirt. The sensation was oddly grounding, keeping her awake and checked in to the situation. She closed her eyes and focused on the buzzing sensation beneath her skin and the strange awareness of the location of all her bones. It was uncomfortable and made her feel like her skin wasn’t enough to keep her together anymore, like her spine was too big for her body and would burst from between her shoulder blades any second. 

She shuddered and took a deep breath. There were tears running down her cheeks that she couldn’t seem to stop. Her fingers curled and uncurled, bunching up the sticky material of her medical gown. She could feel the blood beneath her fingernails and the way it cooled against her skin and clumped her hair into one big, sticky knot. A shower sounded like the best thing in the world. She couldn’t wait to scrub her skin so raw that she’d bleed and hoped that she would never have to feel someone else’s blood was clinging to her ever again. She would be happy with her own blood, if that was what it came down to.

She didn’t want Hiroko to see her like this.

By the time they reached the tub, Kabuto’s clothes were wet with tears as well as blood. He placed her on the edge of the tub and turned the water on, testing the temperature and washing his hands of the gore that covered them in the process. Mayuri watched the water turn pink and didn’t move as he lowered her into the tub, still fully clothed. Red stained the empty white space, swirling around her before disappearing down the drain. 

“I can bathe myself,” she muttered, batting away his hand as he went to comb his fingers through her hair. She was too tired to put up more of a fight. She could feel Kabuto’s eyes on her as she sluggishly went through the motions, tugging off her shredded top and leaning forward to let the lukewarm water run over her head. Her eyes stung as diluted blood dripped into them. 

Over the rush of the water she heard Kabuto as he stood and grabbed her discarded clothing. “I’ll grab you something else to wear. I don’t think these are worth saving.”

Mayuri didn’t even look at him. She didn’t hear his footsteps as he left, but the creak of the door closing was audible over the rush of the water as it slowly filled the tub. She sat, silent and still, until she was sure he was gone. Then, she took a deep breath, slipped under the rising water, and screamed where she was sure she wouldn’t be heard. She thrashed, hands and head slamming against the sides of the tub, staying under until there was no air left in her lungs and white spots danced behind her closed eyelids. Her hair swirled around her body, weighing her down and tangling around her arms like hands trying to hold her under. 

She surfaced, took a few shallow, shuddering breaths, and then repeated the process. She ducked under, over and over again, until she was too dizzy to think straight and her already sore throat too raw to make a single sound. By the time Kabuto returned, she was floating face-up in the water, hair like a dark halo around her head and water spilling over the sides of the tub. He silently turned the faucet off and stood above her, his face an unreadable mask. 

Mayuri didn’t acknowledge him with even a flicker of her gaze. She didn’t tear her glazed eyes away from the steam that floated above her, imagining she was back in the compound and her granny and mama would call for her to come home any moment. At the same time, she was also chasing memories of sisters and a brother screeching with laughter, of a mom who would pretend to scold them for climbing into a mountain stream but then whisper to her babies to try and pull their older sister under the frigid water despite her loud protests. She closed her eyes, ignoring Kabuto’s empty stare as her breaths escaped in the pathetic little hiccups that always happened after crying. 

Her mouth moved, lips wrapping around words but unable to form the sounds with her battered vocal cords. Covering her face with her trembling hands, shoulders hunched and body sinking beneath the pink-tinted water, she repeated the soundless words, over and over again, even as water lapped at her nose and filled her mouth. 

Without a word, Kabuto scooped her dripping form out of the water and wrapped her in a towel. His hands glanced over her arm, glowing green and feeling faintly warm. In their wake was nothing but smooth skin without so much as a scar to show where bones had torn through the flesh. When his hands moved carefully across her throat, resting there for a long moment and his brow creasing in concentration as he focused on healing the damage that had been wrought, she suddenly found herself with a voice. 

“I miss them, I miss them, _I miss them so goddamn much,_ ” she whimpered. It was the only coherent thought she seemed to be able to form, her mind a cacophony of scrambled memories and a yawning chasm of overwhelming loss. 

“Sshhh, Mayuri-chan,” Kabuto soothed, hands glancing across her temple and filling her head with a fuzzy warmth. “Sleep now.”

With a final sigh, familiar names falling from her lips, Mayuri gave into the exhaustion and willingly gave herself up to the darkness. 

.

Hiroko opened her eyes to the sight of her sister floating in deep green liquid in the tank across from her own. She appeared to be resting peacefully, eyes closed and face slack. Hiroko watched her hair as it moved in a dark cloud around her head, feeling her own hair brush her back in tandem. A single bubble escaped her mouth as she smiled blearily at the sight of Mayuri, whole and alive. 

Briefly, she wondered if maybe everything had been just a dream. Maybe her sister had never died and they weren’t in some alternate universe where anime characters came to life. Wouldn’t that be nice? She twitched, feeling the heaviness that clung to her limbs. She didn’t feel any pain, but the burning in her lungs and the liquid surrounding her wasn’t pleasant. It felt too far too hot, burning against her skin. She pushed back, like the heat that burned inside of her was trying to play catch up with her surroundings. It felt...uncomfortable.

That meant that this couldn’t be a dream.

The liquid of her own tank was nearly painful in its heat, almost enough to keep her awake and aware of the discomfort. Her eyes darted around what she could see of the room, searching for Orochimaru or Kabuto or any sign of any guards. She couldn’t see anyone, but that didn’t really mean anything, considering her limited range of vision. The power thrummed under her skin, rushing through her veins and filling her chest. Briefly, she considered trying once again to freeze her tank and break the glass—

But no. It would be so much easier to just close her eyes and allow herself to drift off again. It was so much nicer to lose herself in the quiet of her own head. She was less likely to lose her mind that way. 

.

Kabuto stood between the tanks, sharp eyes moving slowly over the still forms of Orochimaru’s latest interests. It was easy to see why they had caught the man’s attention, of course. The mixing of clan bloodlines within the Land of Water was unusual, especially amongst the noble clans and those with kekkei genkai. From what he had heard, they were usually too suspicious of one another and too busy guarding their own secrets to bother interacting with each other apart from the occasional battle. So having two children (twins, at that) with parents from two separate clans who were known for their powerful abilities was certain to garner the sannin’s attention. 

How said sannin had even heard about these girls and their lineage was a mystery, though. He had been spending more time in Water country, watching the land’s upheaval and political distress like a play put on for his own personal enjoyment. However, things like bastard or half breed children were considered disgraces to clans that were as ancient and petty as the Kaguya, so usually they would have stayed silent about the presence of any in their clan, seeing it as something to take care of themselves. Well, the clan had certainly _taken care_ of these children, but the mystery still remained as to how Orochimaru had learned about them in the first place. 

Kabuto hummed quietly as he moved closer to Hiroko, examining the gauges and information output at the base of the tank. Even though the temperature was being kept at a steady 41 degrees celsius, there was still what appeared to be frost crisscrossing the girl’s skin in an intricate spiderweb of patterns. Despite that, she still appeared to be sleeping contentedly. 

He made a few new notes in her chart. They would likely have to use chakra repression seals on both of the girls unless specifically training their kekkei genkai. He frowned slightly as he squinted down at the notes other medics had made with tiny, messy writing. He shook his head and sighed, then turned away towards the other sister. 

She would likely need chakra repression seals as well, considering what had happened with the medic who had been attending her before. He would have to be careful about leaking any information about the woman’s death, seeing as she had been well liked. Orochimaru wouldn’t be terribly pleased if one of his newest pet projects was killed by some idiot seeking some sort of misguided revenge against a literal toddler. 

He watched the girl twitch in her forced stasis and took note of the way her skin rippled and bulged as the bones beneath it changed. It was a disturbing but undeniably intriguing thing to watch. It was also certain to pose something of a challenge in the future, seeing as the only two people who were likely to know anything about Shikotsumyaku, the girls’ mother and grandmother, had both been killed. The other Kaguyas were too consumed by their fear of the “curse” to be of any help. It would be easier to find a Yuki clan member to hone Hiroko’s abilities, but talking them into coming to Otogakure might pose a challenge. Although, with the political atmosphere in Kiri, it might actually be easier by the time they needed someone. He had heard the rumors about the general opinions and unrest that had begun to stir in Water country in recent years. Most of the Yuki clan had already fled their homes and gone into hiding, and he wouldn’t be surprised if they began to be picked off one-by-one very soon. Clans with kekkei genkai might jump at the chance to leave their homeland in a year or two. 

That was a problem for later, though, since it would be dangerous to force the children to begin extensive work with their kekkei genkai while their chakra coils were still in the process of developing. Orochimaru wouldn’t want to break his new play things so soon after getting them, after all.

Kabuto stood between the tanks, the glowing lights casting eerie ripples across his features as he scanned over both of the girls’ files. He made notes of where they needed to be updated already and what he would need to copy over into the information they had gathered on the Kaguya clan’s medical history and general information from the girls’ mother. The data would prove invaluable, he was certain. The woman had had more knowledge of clan specific medical ninjutsu and the inner workings of her clan’s abilities than the average Kiri-based clan member. He suspected it had something to do with the fact that her mother had become ill early in life, but he hadn’t exactly had time to ask before her death. 

He sighed. It was a shame she had decided to act so quickly. He had hoped that he would have been able to glean more information from her before her death, but it was in the past now. There was nothing to be done for the dead. At least, not yet.

Making a final note to himself to consult with the village’s seal master about which design would be best for the Kaguya twins, he left without a backwards glance.


	11. Your Mind Is a Weapon

Hiroko gasped at the sudden feeling of displacement. She felt her stomach leap to her throat as the world tilted and spun around her, and suddenly she was laying on the cold ground, coughing up the glowing blue liquid that had been filling her lungs, heaving as it filled her throat and spilled over her lips. She gasped desperately for breath, choking on the sudden and strange feeling of air filling her lungs and drying out her throat. Getting used to breathing air again was almost worse than the process of breathing in the liquid had been. 

Slowly, she pushed herself up. Her arms were shaking so badly she almost wasn’t able to get herself into a sitting position, so she decided it was probably the smartest choice to not even attempt to stand. Instead, she clumsily shifted to sit on her knees and looked around the room, blinking blue liquid out of her eyes. It clumped her eyelashes together and lingered on her cheeks, the blue glow catching her gaze and distracting her from the rest of the room for just a second. Her hair hung around her in heavy black clumps, clinging uncomfortably to her bare skin like grasping hands. 

As the glow by her eye faded and she took in the sight of the people gathered around her, Hiroko became suddenly very aware of the fact that she wasn’t wearing a shirt. Something ugly filled her mind at the realization and she hunched over with the weight of it, unable to bring herself to look at them.

She shook her hair out, pulling it over her shoulders so it would cover her undeveloped chest. In her mind, she knew that her body was that of a child instead of that of a grown woman, but that didn’t stop the feeling of indignity and humiliation that welled in her chest at the eyes that stared down at her almost-naked form. Taking another deep, rattling breath, she steeled herself and forced herself to stare the group down with her chin raised, meeting each of their eyes with a haughty, angry gaze in a deliberate show of disrespect. 

If any of them took note or took offense, none of them showed it. Instead, a medic stepped forward and kneeled at her side, the knees of his white pants soaking up the liquid that surrounded her. She flinched back, her face set into a scowl, when he moved as if to touch her. 

“What do you want?” she hissed between clenched teeth, eyes darting between the man kneeling before her to the handful of others gathered behind him, who were watching her like she was a particularly interesting bug. They looked at her like she wasn’t even _human._ Anger joined the fear inside her, and the heat of it rushed through her veins, filling her with fire. The air around her turned colder in response and the blue sludge surrounding her began to freeze, the loud sounds of cracking ice filling the room and echoing back to her. She watched with fire in her eyes and anger burning in her chest as the man before her looked down at the frost on his legs and felt a surge of cruel satisfaction at the way his expression twisted into something uncertain. When he looked up, there was a spark of fear in his brown eyes.

Behind him, she could see the silver mist of the other men’s breaths forming in front of their faces. Their hands were already shaking and their frames were stiff with the sudden drop in temperature. As she watched them shake, the chill in the air not affecting her beyond making each of her breaths visible, Hiroko had the sudden dawning realization that she was the reason for the ice. The men before her were shivering because of _her_. 

They might not have been shaking with fear, but she was still the cause of it. She had a power over them, something that they couldn’t control. Drawing in a deep breath, she chased the warmth that had gathered inside her body, pulling it from her fingers and toes to fill her chest instead, a tiny sun centered within herself, burning so hot that it bordered on cold. It seemed to burn away all other sensations, evaporating the chill of fear and the sick feeling of humiliation and helplessness.

She forced herself to stand, willing her legs to stop shaking so badly. She still wasn’t any taller than the man kneeling before her, but it made her feel better to be on her feet instead of the ground. 

“Don’t move!” she snapped when he tried to stand with her. The medic froze immediately as the ice began to climb his pant legs, curling across the fabric and sparkling with the changing lights of the torches. Her eyes darted towards the men watching them with looks that ranged from fascination to vague concern. It struck her that she had no idea where to go from here.

Hiroko wet her lips and swallowed nervously around the tightness in her throat. She had a captive audience and no plan for how to proceed. Their eyes bore into her, stirring the anxiety in her gut, and suddenly it seemed an awful lot harder to hold onto that warmth inside her. She balled her hands into fists at her sides to try to hide the fact that they were trembling. She blinked quickly, fighting the urge to cry. Distantly, it occurred to her that she had use of both of her eyes now. She wondered how long it took for an eye to heal, and how long she had been in that tank. 

“I...I want you to let us go. Let me and my sister go,” she demanded. She hated how high and afraid her voice was, and the way she couldn’t pronounce all the words right, her tongue tripping over every word and leaving her with a noticeable lisp. She hated that she sounded like a child.

“Come now, my dear,” a cold voice said, soft and amused. She had heard the voice before. Hiroko went stiff, her eyes growing wide with fear at the sound. She wasn’t the only one. Before her, the gathered men were no longer watching her, looking instead at something over her shoulder. “You know that that won’t be possible. But...well, I see that your abilities are already surpassing what I could have hoped. You could become a great asset to this village, and to me.”

Hiroko forced herself to turn, looking behind her for the first time since she had woken up. The first thing that caught her eye was the tank, filled with glowing green liquid, and the familiar figure inside it. Something inside her twisted with such a strange mix of emotions that she couldn’t even begin to name them all. 

The second thing that drew her gaze was, of course, the man that stood just past the tank. He was cloaked in shadow, eyes glowing eerily from the darkness. Hiroko felt like prey under the predator’s gaze, too afraid to so much as tremble. Beneath her bare feet, the ice began to sharpen and grow, tiny daggers that would do nothing to deter the murderer in front of her. She knew that he had killed her mother, knew that he was the one behind the deaths of so many children and her own torture. Even if he had never personally laid a hand on her or Mayuri, he was the one at fault for everything. 

She felt a sudden burst of anger, bright and consuming. 

Suddenly, the knives weren’t so small anymore. They exploded in all directions and she heard a yell of pain from behind her. Orochimaru didn’t even flinch. His smile grew wider, almost feral as it split his face. 

“So much power in the hands of such a small thing,” he cooed as he moved closer, stepping carelessly around the sharp spikes. Hiroko took a step back, ice crunching under her feet and cutting the soft soles. She winced as her own warm blood squished between her toes but didn’t take her eyes off the man.

“Don’t come any closer!” she snarled, her voice hoarse and hands shaking. She willed the ice to trap him, to impale him and make sure he could never touch her, but she was already almost spent. The bursts of power and the heat within her had worn her out and used too much energy all at once. She was swaying, the ice that surrounded her already beginning to melt as she lost control of it. The spikes that had been conjured mere seconds before were already beginning to crumble. She was suddenly so horribly tired, almost wishing she could crawl back into her tank and go back to sleep.

“You should be more careful, my dear,” he hummed, stopping in the green glow cast by the tank her sister was floating in. He glanced meaningfully towards it, eyes glinting and the ripples moving over his pale skin and dark hair. He looked like some ethereal being, menacing and powerful and not at all human. His figure seemed to morph and distort, growing more snakelike and more horrifying as she watched.

Hiroko dared to pull her eyes away from him, turning her full attention towards Mayuri. What she saw made her freeze, and a cold chill climbed her spine, like the ice all around her had finally been able to burn through the sun that she held inside her chest. A soft, broken sound fell from her lips as she stared at the sight of one of her ice pikes impaling the tank her sister was being held in. 

Green liquid trickled down the ice, creating rivets as it slowly melted it away. Hiroko took an uncertain step forwards, close enough to press her hand to the cracked glass, close enough that Orochimaru could reach out and touch her if he so desired. He didn’t bother and instead watched her with greedy, curious eyes. Hiroko ignored him in favor of trying to figure out if her sister was still alive or not. Not even his monstrous form was enough to pull her attention back to him.

 _Surely_ he wouldn’t allow her sister to die. After everything, he wouldn’t be so nonchalant about her death, would he? She stood on her toes, peering up into the tank with enormous, horrified eyes. She could already feel the panic creeping up on her, the walls closing in around her, her focus becoming one of pinpoint precision as she tried to tell if her only family left was gone or not, dead by her own hand. 

“Mayuri?” she whimpered, and willed the ice to build under her feet despite her exhaustion, hoisting her up inch-by-inch until she was eyelevel with her sister. As she was slowly lifted, she could see the red that had begun to swirl and mix with the green and felt nauseous. 

The ice was shoved through her sister’s stomach, driving her against the other side of the tank’s glass. Her green eyes were open, staring down at herself with confusion, like she couldn’t quite comprehend what was going on. Hiroko sobbed softly. 

Mayuri’s eyes shot up and locked with her own, holding her in place. Hiroko’s knees gave out under her and she collapsed, the ice beneath her burning into the soft skin of her legs. As they held one another’s gazes, Hiroko could see the exact moment her sister figured out what was happening. Her green eyes grew wide and her whole body convulsed. The blood continued to swirl around her as the liquid from the tank slowly drained. 

Hiroko was shaking like a leaf, tears streaming down her cheeks as she watched her sister’s eyes lose their focus. Her lips formed words, blood dribbling down her chin as the green drained past her shoulders, past her torso, past her hips, until her whole weight was supported by the pike through her stomach, keeping her pinned against the glass. Hiroko couldn’t hear what she was saying, but she could see her own name on Mayuri’s blood-stained lips. Hiroko whimpered, pressing herself closer to the glass, as close as she could be to her big sister. The blood dripped from her chin and splattered against the ice at her stomach, painting it in bright, pretty colors.

“No,” she moaned, fingers curling uselessly against the glass. “Please, _please_ , no. No no _no no_ no!”

She was killing her. She was killing Mayuri, and she didn’t know how to fix it. She couldn’t save her. She was going to lose her big sister again. She already knew that couldn’t live like this without her. She couldn’t bear to have her sister back, only to have her violently torn away again. She was going to be forced to watch her die and there was nothing she could do about it.

There was no liquid left and Mayuri was pinned, hands scrabbling uselessly at the ice. Her nails broke against it. There was too much blood, spilling from her stomach and her lips, and her fingers were leaving streaks on the ice like red fingerpaint on a blank canvas. The ice wasn’t melting, wasn’t letting her free. Why wasn’t it melting? It was ice, so surely it should disappear and then her sister could be free and she could be healed and-and-and—

_(“You know what the perfect murder weapon would be?” Elle asks from her spot on the edge of her bed, a sly grin on her face as she watches her sister write something down in a notebook. Avery glances up at her, one eyebrow arched high in an unimpressed expression that Elle knows for a fact she practices in the mirror. She’s sitting on the floor of their shared bedroom, back against the door like her measly weight might actually be enough to keep it shut._

_“I don’t know. I don’t think the weapon matters so much if you dispose of the body where no one would ever find it, and are careful not to leave any evidence behind,” she answers in a monotone before turning her attention back to her writing, ink smudged across her hand. Elle frowns and rolls her eyes, annoyed that her sister isn’t in the mood to play along today. She kicks her legs, listening to the soft thump of them against the ground, and tries to ignore the sound of their father moving around downstairs, yelling about something. His words are muffled by the closed door, but whenever he bellows, they both go quiet. They listen, and they pray that he is not stumbling his way up the stairs to them._

_The room is illuminated by the golden light of the setting sun, broken up by the sheer curtains, turning pink or purple in places. It shines on them both, and Hiroko watches it catch in her sister’s hair, making the frizziness of it more apparent. She smoothes a hand over her own hair and plasters her smile back on. She wonders if their mom will be home in time to take her to gymnastics._

_“It’s an icicle! No evidence, because the weapon melts,” she declares, watching the pen still in her sister’s hand. Avery glances back up, mouth twisted as she considers that. She opens her mouth, argument already on her lips, but then falls silent. Their father yells again, and Elle is glad that the little kids aren’t home this time.)_

The sudden memory sprang unbidden into her head, interrupting her thoughts. It had been back when they were so much younger, before life and death had torn their worlds apart. It had been just another mundane day, just a conversation that she had never thought would hold any real bearing on her life. She had apparently become the living embodiment of that stupid middle school rationalization. She was killing her sister with a fucking icicle. She wanted to laugh until she cried because this whole situation was just so _fucking ridiculous._ It was so fucking _tragic_ it was practically funny. She could feel herself beginning to hyperventilate, breaths coming too fast and catching in her throat, choking her. She sobbed again, a broken little sound, and hit the cracked glass with a tiny fist. The sound echoed and Mayuri convulsed again. Hiroko pulled her hand back, cradling it against her chest as blood dripped from the tiny cuts the glass had left. 

“How unfortunate it will be to lose her,” Orochimaru hummed, his unconcerned voice strangely melodious as it echoed throughout the room. “It will be difficult to find a replacement, but not impossible. Still, it’s a shame it had to turn out this way, isn’t it?” 

Hiroko could barely hear him over the pounding of her own heart. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from her sister’s face, watching in horror as it began to lose all its color, her skin going grey as she lost more and more blood. Not again. She couldn’t bear to lose her sister yet _again._

“You can save her,” Hiroko whispered, her breath fogging up the glass in front of her and obscuring Mayuri’s form. Hiroko watched as her sister’s blurry image stopped struggling, hands falling limp upon the ice that was impaling her. “You can save her!” she repeated, whirling to face him, desperation clear upon her face. “Please, _please_ don’t let her die. I’ll do anything you want, so just—just don’t let her….”

Orochimaru’s smile grew wider, sharp fangs showing behind pale lips as he hissed, “Of course, my dear.”

Suddenly there was a sharp pain, like a knife straight through her shoulder blade. Hiroko gasped as the pain spread throughout her body, screamed as it replaced the warmth inside of her with nothing but a hollow emptiness, a chill that not even the ice surrounding her could replicate. 

Hiroko blinked, and suddenly she was back on the ground, kneeling on a bed of melting blue ice and frost. Orochimaru stood before her, the green ripples distorting his face and his eyes bright with malice, but he looked mostly human. Trembling, she turned again to look at her sister, knowing what she’d find but wishing so desperately that it had all been a dream, like she had been wishing since she had woken up here. 

She was shocked to find the tank whole and Mayuri unharmed. Hiroko stared, eyes wide and sight blurred by tears. Beneath her, the ice had begun to melt. She blinked slowly, a bone-deep ache settling into her and exhaustion making her whole body feel horribly heavy. 

“Mayuri?” she whispered, her chest tight. She covered her mouth to muffle a sob, but couldn’t stop the tears that were flowing freely down her cheeks. The dull aching of her eyes seemed to match the ache that had worked it’s way across her skin. When she looked down, she could see strange black characters marching their way over her flesh. The warmth that had been burning beneath her skin had faded, barely noticeable anymore. 

She looked from her arms, covered in black markings, then to Orochimaru, and back again. She looked towards Mayuri, floating in the green liquid. Her eyes were open and watching them with a faraway expression. Hiroko wished that her sister was with her, instead of sealed away in a half-conscious state. She wondered if she even knew what was going on, or if she could even see them at all. 

“What did you do to us?” she whispered, forcing herself to look at Orochimaru once more. He had moved closer, towering over her. “What did you do to _me?_ Just now, what was that?”

The room was so quiet that she could hear the fabric of his kimono rustle as he leaned forward to rest a long fingered hand on her head. She went stiff immediately, heart rate picking up speed as she stared up at his unreadable expression. He tilted her head this way and that, sharp eyes examining her thoughtfully. She wanted desperately to snarl, to jerk away, but found that she couldn’t summon the anger or the energy. His hand was larger than her face, and he was far stronger than she could ever hope to be.

She was beyond terrified. 

Finally, he withdrew and crossed his arms, hands tucked into the sleeves of his kimono. She forced herself to maintain her glare despite the way her lower lip trembled and the tears she could feel drying on her cheeks, and it was only the leftover adrenaline coursing through her veins that kept her eyes from drooping sleepily. He met her gaze and smiled.

“That, Hiroko-chan,” he said, and she had to wonder how it was that someone with a voice as raspy as his could manage to make his words so smooth. “—was a genjutsu. The markings on your body create a seal, to make sure you’re unable to access your chakra or your kekkei genkai until you’re deemed to be ready.”

 _“Oh,_ ” she thought, with a rush of horror and a hint of excitement, _“—so he did manage to give us the curse. That’s what this is.”_

She curled her toes in the cold slush beneath her feet. Even though it left her exhausted, she found herself wishing that she could feel that sun burning within her chest once again. The adrenaline was finally fading away and she could feel herself already starting to drop off against her will. She fought to keep herself awake, focused on Orochimaru’s words. She chased the spark of anger within herself, trying to use it to fuel herself.

“If you do not work to control yourself and to become stronger, you will never be able to protect yourself or your sister, Hiroko-chan,” he was saying, and the way he said her name made her feel slimy. She shivered and his smile grew. 

“What do you want in return?” she asked, and didn’t bother to hide her displeasure at the way the words sounded in her tiny, trembling baby voice. 

“Nothing you can give me right now, my dear,” he said flippantly, but his eyes were hungry. “For now, all I ask of you is that you give your loyalty to me and to this village. I will help you to grow and give you the skills you will need to protect your sister and yourself. When you are older and stronger, when you have become the powerful tool that I know you will be, _then_ you will be of true value to me.”

He sounded like a damn genie granting the world’s shittiest wish. Hiroko sighed, and if she scowled any more her face would probably just collapse in on itself. So she carefully smoothed her features out, and when she looked him in the eyes once more, she told herself that she was ready to do whatever it would take to keep her sister safe and herself sane.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that this chapter was a little bit late, everyone! I'll admit that this one gave me a whole lot of trouble. I've been having a bit of trouble with my confidence in my writing recently, I'm afraid. So thank you to those of you who bookmarked and left kudos. It makes me smile so much whenever I see those notifications, and every little thing helps to make sure that the next chapter is released sometime before next year. Haha. You're all amazing! As always, I hope you enjoyed and please let me know your thoughts!


	12. The First Few Days, Pt. 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A rundown of Hiroko's first few days after her violent wake-up call.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! A bit of an early (short) chapter as an apology for my late one, as well as an apology for future late chapters. Since the holidays are coming up I’ll be off visiting family and there’s a good chance I won’t be able to update/write for a little while then. 
> 
> I’m not 100% confident with this chapter, but at this point I’ve read and reread it so much I can’t tell anymore if it’s any good or not. I figure I might as well throw it out there and if need be I can edit later. Oops. Never be afraid to let me know if something isn’t reading clearly or if it’s confusing or lacking. I live for constructive criticism. Also, if there is something you’d like to know about Otogakure, its occupants, the twins, or even just interactions/situations that Mayuri and Hiroko might get up to, now is the time to say something! I’ve got some space in upcoming chapters to flesh out the village and characters before moving on to the next arc, and while I’ve already got a lot of plans, I’m still definitely up for taking prompts, requests, questions, etc.
> 
> Also, here’s a friendly reminder that if anyone ever wants to beta, just let me know! Having an extra set of eyes for plot/characterization/grammar/whatever else would be very welcome. 
> 
> Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Hiroko had spent the first three days with medics poking her and the so-called seal master experimenting with her seal, removing and reapplying it and then tweaking it until it reached whatever standards he was trying to meet. She sat mostly quietly throughout it all, and was really rather proud of herself for only screaming at the various tormentors a handful of times. It was something of a personal record for her, after all, since it felt like she’d spent most of her waking hours yelling since she had woken up in this hellhole. 

If Orochimaru came to see her at any point in time, she never knew it. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that. After all, she had pretty much just signed a deal with the devil only for him to disappear immediately afterwards before they could discuss any terms or conditions. Every hour that passed without him coming to outline exactly what his plans for her were was just another hour of growing anxiety as she imagined every awful thing he might have in mind for her. 

Kabuto, on the other hand, seemed to be there every time she turned around. It had scared her at first, the way he would just suddenly _be in her room_ without any warning, watching her sleep or waiting patiently for her to get out of the bathroom. She’d thrown whatever was on hand the first few times, which generally meant that the boy sidestepped a flat pillow or watched, unimpressed, as a blanket fluttered lacklusterly to land on the stone floor a few inches short of his feet. On one occasion, he had appeared as she was changing clothes. She had screeched and thrown her shirt at him on reflex. Much to her surprise, it actually landed where she’d intended it to, squarely over his face. 

“You can’t just walk in here!” she yelled, crossing her arms across her chest and scowling angrily. Kabuto pulled the shirt from his head and sighed. 

“You and your sister have such odd reactions. Most children your age don’t particularly pay attention to their state of dress.” She wasn’t sure if he was trying to imply something or not. After all, it wouldn’t exactly be anyone’s first leap in logic to assume that the two children they had brought back from the dead actually had the minds of adults, but she also figured that neither she nor Mayuri always acted like most children should. What would Orochimaru and Kabuto do, if they somehow found out? Quickly, she quashed her suspicions and worries before they could take root further inside her mind. She didn’t need that particular thought eating away at her, along with everything else. It was unlikely that they’d ever _really know_ unless she or Mayuri told them. She watched with narrowed eyes as he took his glasses off and held them up to the light, squinting at the lenses. He turned his focus back to her as he cleaned them on the hem of his shirt. Somehow, without the glasses obscuring his features just-so, it was much easier to see just how horribly young he was. “I’ll tell you what I told her; I’m a medic. You have nothing that I haven’t seen countless times before.”

Hiroko didn’t respond right away. She held her hand out for the shirt, which he handed over without a fight. She turned away and pulled it over her head, then turned back to survey him with a critical eye. Though he was probably a good foot taller than her, she did her very best to give the impression that she was looking down her nose at him. After a second, she smiled, sugary sweet and sharp as any knife. 

“You seem a little _young_ to be a real medic, _Kabuto-chan.”_

His returning smile was cold and empty as he readjusted his glasses. “Oddly enough, you’re not the first person to think that. Now, if you wouldn’t mind, I’ll need to take some samples. After we’re done here, I’ll be off to see to your sister.”

She wondered if that was a threat, or if he was just saying it because he liked reminding her that her sister was out of her reach. No matter how many times she asked after Mayuri, none of the medics she met would tell her anything. Most would turn away, lips pursed or their faces carefully blank. Some would apologize, saying they didn’t know or couldn’t say. Kabuto was the worst, though. He would smile at her, unnerving and empty, and tell her that she should spend more time worrying about herself. He would deflect her every question as he did his tests and drew his blood and spinal fluid, return every jibe and insult with an infuriating calm, and then pat her head like she was some stupid child before he left. Somehow, whenever he collected samples, she was always left more sore afterwards than when anyone else did it. It was infuriating, because she knew he was doing it on purpose. Yet somehow, it also thrilled her; if he was being petty, that meant she was getting under his skin despite the cool act he put on.

During the few odd hours when the medics and the seal master weren’t tormenting her, she was left to her own devices in the tiny room. The silence was overbearing, nothing but the beating of her own heart and the crackle of the torches to distract her from her thoughts. She found herself sleeping more often than not, woken only when it was time for another exam, when food was brought to her, or when nature called. She didn’t see the point in being awake otherwise. If not for the sharp eyes on her when her meals were brought in, she doubted she would even bother eating. 

When the weariness weighed heavily on her but she couldn’t bring herself to shut her eyes for fear that they might never open again, Hiroko sang. It was loud, off key, and angry. Sometimes, she stumbled over her words, the English not quite fitting in her mouth or rolling off her tongue as easily as it should have. Still, it was a language that no one here knew or recognized, and somehow, that gave her a lot of satisfaction. It was good to know that, no matter what they did to her and what they could take away, her first language was something that they couldn’t touch. 

She was in the middle of a fast, upbeat song when one of the medics walked in. As the door swung open, Hiroko cut herself off. Yumi, one of the medics that had been attending her, cocked her head to the side as she considered her. Her eyes were hidden behind a pair of dark glasses despite the relatively dim lighting of the room. 

“Were you having fun, Hiroko-chan?” she asked, voice like a whisper. Hiroko looked away, lips pressed tightly together. Yumi did not bother to reproach her for her silence or her refusal to look at her. She just accepted it silently and went about her work. 

Hiroko grimaced as Yumi pulled yet another needle out of seemingly nowhere, and did her best not to tense as blood was drawn. She hated needles. 

So. Fucking. Much. 

She wished that Mayuri were there to hold her hand and pet her hair, even if she was laughing at her for being such a baby the whole time. 

She was scared. 

She missed her sister.

.

On the fourth day she was led out of the room and to a cafeteria. The loud sounds and the crush of people were all overwhelming. They stirred the anxiety inside her, grinding on her already frayed nerves and making her chest feel tight and her stomach queasy. She hated it and she told Kabuto as much, arms crossed and a pout on her face. He just told her that she would get used to it, and she was again reminded of how much she hated that small, self-satisfied smile of his. When she couldn’t reach the food, instead of bringing herself low enough to ask Kabuto for help, she decided she’d rather not eat at all and proceeded to storm away from the line and plop herself down at a table as far away from anyone else as she could manage. 

It was actually a relief, for a little while. Kabuto had disappeared and she was finally being left alone for the first time in days, able to take a moment to gather herself. That was, until someone sat themselves down across from her, their small body moving stiffly. They were covered in bandages, and there was blood leaking through in a few places. She eyed them warily, arms crossed tightly across her chest as though that could keep her safe from whatever this stranger had in mind.

“Hey, kid. I see you didn’t die after all,” they said, voice eager and rough in a strange, unnatural way that set her on edge. She didn’t say anything in return, and she could swear she saw something in their eyes darken slightly. She shifted back a little, eyeing them warily. The kid let out a quiet, almost bitter laugh. Still, they didn’t stop trying to start the conversation. “I guess you don’t recognize me. It’s been a few months and a lot’s changed, so I can’t really blame you. I was that boy who—” 

“Wait!” Hiroko snapped, her heart sinking. The kid obliged, but she could see his brow wrinkle beneath his bandages at the interruption. “Did you just say a couple _months_?” she demanded, voice tight and her chest filling with horror. Had that much time really passed? How could she have not realized that? Why didn’t anyone tell her?

“Your voice is different,” he murmured, looking perplexed, as though the fact that he might have been talking to the wrong person was more worrisome than the fact that Hiroko was missing _months of her fucking life._

“Yeah, my voice is different because you didn’t talk to me. You probably met my sister,” she explained hastily, waving her hand dismissively. “Now what the hell did you just say? What do you mean, _months?”_

He looked suddenly nervous as he said, “I dunno. Maybe I just got it all wrong, alright? Just last time I saw your sister or whatever was right before the creepy medic kid took her away. That was a couple months ago. But that was the first time I saw her anyway, so’s not like we were friends or somethin’. I could’ve just missed her the next time she came through.”

“Months,” Hiroko whispered, feeling sick. She let her head fall to thump against the dirty tabletop and made a soft, wounded noise. She repeated the word a few times, just trying to wrap her mind around the idea. After a moment, she felt a bandaged hand hesitantly brush against the back of her hand. She pulled it back immediately, raising her head just enough to bark out, “Don’t touch me!” before she let her head fall back to the table, hiding her red face and glassy eyes behind a curtain of dark hair. There was a part of her that wanted to strike out, to yell and hurt the boy and the medics and Orochimaru and Kabuto and even wished that their mother was here again just so she could scream at her, because _she_ was the one who gave them to Orochimaru and who left them here to suffer. She wanted to scream, to rage, to lash out, but...she was just too tired. 

Over the muted roar of the cafeteria she could hear the boy shift, his seat squeaking softly, and clear his throat awkwardly. “Um, if it makes you feel any better, I was sedated for a few weeks, too.” 

Slowly, she lifted her head to look at him with the most unimpressed expression she could manage. He shifted uncomfortably under her dull gaze, the tiny bits of his face that she could see turning red. He seemed to take her silence as encouragement to continue, though, because after a second he barreled on ahead. 

“There was an accident in one of the labs,” he explained, raising a bandaged arm in jolting movements to motion at his own face. “Something exploded. They couldn’t put out the flames and the chemicals apparently make it harder to heal the burns so they figured it would be better if I just slept it off for a while.”

He sounded surprisingly okay with his circumstances. The excuse the medics had given him for not healing his wounds sounded like bullshit, too. Hiroko stared at him incredulously, wondering if everyone around here was as blase about mutilation as he was. So far, the evidence pointed to the answer to that question being a resounding yes. Maybe they were all brainwashed or something. 

“I’m...sorry that happened to you,” she finally managed, watching the way his bandages bunched as he smiled at her. Even if he was a little twisted, he didn’t seem like a bad kid or anything. She sighed, then offered him what she could of a smile as she said, “I’m Hiroko.”

His smile widened further, eyes scrunching up. She watched a red blotch of fresh blood well beneath the bandages on his cheek, right where a dimple might be. Even though she couldn’t fully see his face, he seemed awfully young, smiling like that. Despite the careful way he moved, he didn’t seem bothered by the pain of his facial wounds reopening. She couldn’t look away from the dot of red as he said, “It’s nice to meet’cha! I’m Dosu.”

“Nice you meet you, too, Dosu. How old are you?”

“I’m six. I moved here with my mom a little while ago, so I haven’t met many other kids yet.” His bandages twisted again as his mouth turned down into a frown. “Well, I’ve actually met a couple, but they never live long enough to make friends with. I’m starting my shinobi training soon, though, so maybe I can make some friends there.”

Hiroko felt her stomach twist again. He didn’t sound upset about the other kids dying, just disappointed he didn’t get to make any friends. Kids really could be horribly cruel, couldn’t they? She looked down towards the table, crossing her arms more tightly across her chest as she withdrew further into herself. 

As though able to sense her distress, Dosu quickly spoke up again, his rough voice cracking as he almost shouted, “‘I’m glad you didn’t die, though! Is your sister okay, too?”

Slowly, Hiroko raised her gaze to look at him again. He was leaning across the table, eyes wide. She could see the scabs around them, not quite hidden by the bandages. She nodded and watched those scabs crinkle with another smile. She resisted the urge to shudder. 

“Do you wanna be friends?” he asked, sincere and sweet. She watched the blood as it continued to stain the whites of his bandages. She spoke without thinking.

“Okay. Sure.” She paused, fists clenching and unclenching as the little boy lit up. She sighed. “Why not? Let’s go get those bandages changed. It can’t be healthy to be walking around covered in blood, right?”

Dosu rolled his eyes, saying something about how little girls weren’t allowed to give him orders. Regardless of his grumpy declaration, he cheerfully followed suit when she stood and told him to show her where the nearest infirmary was.


	13. The First Few Days, Pt. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mayuri's first few days, after the experiments are over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! This week, I'd like to give a special little shoutout to Kragh50 over on ff.net, who took the time to send me a PM about their concerns over the rating of this fic, then proceeded to send multiple other messages sharing their thoughts with me. It was a lovely surprise to come home from work to, and I agree! I'm going to go ahead and up the rating of Sticks and Stones to M, because as Kragh50 pointed out to me, the content of my story is not something I'd want an unprepared 13 year old reading.
> 
> I'd also like to thank everyone who takes the time to not only read my work, but also leave kudos and bookmark it. Every notification I get brightens up my day. I hope you enjoy this chapter!
> 
> Warning for this chapter: There is a panic attack that lasts a couple paragraphs, so if that bothers you, be prepared.

Being dumped to the floor, coughing up toxic green sludge and struggling to breath, was not an experience that Mayuri wanted to repeat ever again. Actually, ever since opening her eyes to find herself in this body and this universe, there were a fuck ton of things that she never wanted to have to go through ever again and would, in fact, be much happier if she could just forget. 

Being reunited with Hiroko was not one of those things. 

She would gladly relive that experience over and over again. The second the door closed and they were left alone together, they had fallen into one another’s arms. It was a moment out of every movie, out of every perfect life where things were alright. It was meeting up again after moving to different parts of the country, after being released from the hospital, after one left to visit relatives and the other stayed behind, after an emotionally charged day at school. It was every sunshine-spattered memory she could conjure, every glowing feeling of joy and the relief of _she’s okay_ and _we’re both alive._

She buried her face in her sister’s shoulder, arms wrapped around her neck as she did her best to hold back the tears that were burning at her eyes. Hiroko was sobbing openly, tears and snot making a wet spot on the collar of Mayuri’s new tunic. She held her tightly, not wanting to let go, because if she let go then they could be separated yet again. So she just squeezed more tightly, clinging like an octopus and laughing wetly when Hiroko jumped up to wrap her legs around Mayuri’s waist and cling back. Mayuri twirled them, nearly losing her footing, and they both laughed. For the briefest of moments, it was possible to forget the horrors that they were both going through.

All good things came to an end, though, and eventually the moment had to pass. The sisters let go of one another and stepped back to stare into each other’s faces, taking in the familiar yet unnervingly different features. Mayuri took in the bags under Hiroko’s mismatched eyes and the way they seemed so dull despite the tears in them. 

“Hey, looks like your eye healed up okay,” she sniffled, fingers twitching like she wanted to reach out and touch her sister’s face. Hiroko looked away, nose crinkling with distaste.

“Yeah, I guess so. It’s weird to see one blue eye and one brown one when I look in the mirror, though. It’s weird to see my reflection at all.”

“I think it looks pretty cool!” Mayuri tried to assure, her voice still tight with emotion. Hiroko snorted, blowing a strand of black hair out of her face and rolling her eyes, but there was the hint of a smile on her face. 

“Thanks. I think your thing is going to look pretty cool, too.”

Mayuri’s brow wrinkled in confusion and she reached up to touch one eyelid, then looked down at herself as though searching for any sign of bones breaking through her skin. “My thing?” she repeated, confused. Hiroko’s smile disappeared. 

“Yeah, your hair,” she pointed out, fingers moving to touch her own scalp. “Your roots. They’re white now.” 

“Oh,” Mayuri murmured, blinking back her surprise and fighting the urge to feel weird about the changes. It wouldn’t be fair to Hiroko to be upset about her hair changing color, when the other girl had literally had her eye removed and replaced with someone else’s. Besides, this body was practically all new to her anyway. Hair shouldn’t be a big deal. So instead, she plastered a bright grin on her face and said, “That’s awesome! I always thought I’d look killer with white hair. Do you think it suits me?”

Hiroko huffed out a quiet almost-laugh at the way her sister made a show of primping and preening. She shoved her playfully and said, “How am I supposed to know? It’s just the roots right now so it’s not like I can really tell. It actually looks a little bit like you’re going bald. But it will probably look pretty cool when it grows out some more, yeah. It’ll go nicely with your skin tone.”

Mayuri forced herself to maintain her grin and hoped that she’d get the chance to look in a mirror soon. She hadn’t actually seen herself since waking up, though she had a vague idea of what she probably looked like, considering Hiroko’s appearance and the foggy memories of who Mayuri had been before she’d died and a new soul had taken over. 

By the time someone came to check on them, the two girls were sitting side by side against the far wall, comparing the seals inscribed across their skin. They hadn’t discussed anything that had happened to them after they had fallen asleep that first meeting, uncertain and afraid of what they might learn. Mayuri wanted so desperately to ask her sister what had happened to her but she knew that, right now, it wouldn’t do any good to talk about it. It was still too fresh a wound, still a terror that hung heavy over them both. Hiroko would tell her about it when she was ready, she told herself.

The truth was, she was afraid. She knew that if she asked her sister about what had happened to her, she would be asked in turn. She wasn’t ready to talk about it. Not yet. Maybe not ever. She would be happy to just forget that it had ever happened, honestly. 

“It’s time to go, Mayuri-chan,” the man who had been sent to fetch her said, leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed. The twins looked up at him with wide eyes. Instead of getting up, they scooted closer together, sides pressed close like they could become one being, impossible to separate, if they tried hard enough. 

“Why can’t we both just stay here?” Mayuri demanded. Beside her, Hiroko glared silently, as though wishing that “if looks could kill” wasn’t just an expression. The man looked thoroughly unimpressed with them.

“There’s only one bed,” he pointed out, then raised a hand to silence their protests before they could start. “— _and_ because Orochimaru-sama said. That’s why.” 

“He’s not even our real dad,” Mayuri mumbled, frown firmly in place. Hiroko stifled a snort of startled laughter, turning to look at her sister with wild eyes. The man frowned, as though seriously considering Mayuri’s words and what they could possibly mean. She wondered if he was planning on passing what she had said along to Orochimaru himself. Mayuri met Hiroko’s eyes, the hint of a crooked smile turning the corner of her lips. They stared at one another for a second, a silent conversation exchanged between them. He watched them, curious what they might be thinking and what they might do. 

After a moment, Mayuri heaved a sigh and hoisted herself to her feet, wincing when her ankles popped with the movement. Hiroko followed suit, rising silently with her sister. They linked hands, fingers entwining and both girls trying to offer reassuring squeezes. They looked at one another, smiled sadly, and then let go. Mayuri had to remind herself that they hadn’t even had the chance to say goodbye to one another before, so at least this was an improvement over that. 

Besides, the experiments had already been run. They had been successful, so what else could Orochimaru want from them tonight? She met Hiroko’s sad eyes and could see that her sister was already shutting down. Mayuri did her best to smile at her, to reassure her in whatever small ways she could. The last thing that she saw of her sister before the door swung shut was the way she had tried to smile back, empty and strained as it was, as tears rolled down her cheeks. 

.

The room she had been led to was mostly bare. It was tiny, easily crossed in ten steps and furnished with just a bed and nothing else. Overall, it wasn’t the smallest space she had ever called a bedroom, but it was close. The bland walls and dark, flickering lighting made it seem smaller than it really was. There was a small private bathroom that led from it, which was an unexpected bonus. It even had a little stepstool so that she could reach the sink and see herself in the mirror. How thoughtful of her captors. 

There were clothes folded at the foot of the bed, and a purple rope belt was placed on top of the small pile. Staring down at it, she had to wonder; what was with Orochimaru and these ridiculous belts? She had yet to see him wearing one in real life, as he seemed to prefer dressing in kimonos while he scarred little girls for life. Personally, she didn’t think it was very fair that people kept giving her such a hideous accessory and she was forced to ponder over whether refusing to wear it would be a literal death sentence every time she held it in her hands.

Mayuri scowled at the belt before shifting it to the side in favor of examining the clothes themselves. Altogether, there were four articles of clothes, which didn’t leave a lot for her to mix and match, much to her disappointment. There was a pair of black leggings and a grey long sleeved tunic with a high collar. The second tunic was off-white and sleeveless with a lower neckline, while the leggings were brown and short enough to be hidden by the length of the tunic. There were no designs or markings on any of the clothes to indicate a certain village or clan. They were boring, but she could see how they might be practical, and she guessed that they were the best she was going to get in this place. There were no shoes in sight. Normally, she wouldn’t mind being barefoot so much, but the stone floors here were a minefield of sharp little pebbles. 

Seeing as there wasn’t much else in the little room to occupy her time, the mirror was where Mayuri soon found herself spending most of her alone time. She stared at herself for what felt like hours at a time, trying to adjust to the changes in her reflection, to attach this new form to what she pictured in her mind’s eye when she imagined herself. There were a lot of differences, yet also a few subtle similarities. It seemed that even across dimensions, parts of her might remain the same.

It reminded her of looking in a funhouse mirror, almost. She could recognize the shape of her nose and the curve of her lips. She could see where baby fat would disappear in later years to reveal a heart-shaped face, similar to the one she had once had. Everything was exaggerated and warped, though, the features off enough that she wouldn’t have looked twice at this new form if she had passed it in the street, Before. It was strange, leaving her mind reeling and her body feeling wrong, to watch a familiar stranger looking back at her with curious green eyes. Those, at least, were wholly familiar to her. She wondered how it was that her eyes had crossed dimensions. Wasn’t there a saying, about how eyes were the windows into the soul? It wasn’t pleasant, yet somehow the longer she stared the more the form seemed to fit. She hoped that if she stared long enough, she would come to be comfortable in this skin.

“Ah, shit,” she muttered, leaning closer to her reflection, eyes narrow and mouth twisted into an unhappy expression as she brought her hands up to run tiny fingers over her hair. Just like her sister had said, there was about an inch of white growing from her scalp. “Hiroko was right; it does look like I’m going bald.” 

She sighed, breath fogging up the mirror, and tried to remember if any of her clansmen had had white hair. The only ones she could think of were the few members who had had the honor (or dishonor, depending on who was asked) of growing old enough that their dark hair had turned naturally silver and their clan markings had faded from exposure to the elements. Which meant that her hair was probably changing color due to stress, as opposed to any genetic-related reasons, and she was going to be the youngest person in the world to go prematurely grey. She wondered if it would go back to black eventually or not. 

As much as she hated to admit it to herself, she didn’t like the idea of yet another thing setting her apart from the other members of her clan. Neither she nor Hiroko had clan markings, the honor of it being something that they would have had to earn with great feats of either strength or brutality since they were of impure birth, as opposed to the full members, who were given their markings if they survived their first year of life. That was, they _could_ have earned them, had they not been killed by their own clansmen. 

With a soft groan, she squeezed her eyes shut and leaned her forehead against the mirror, letting the cool feeling of it wash through her. She focused on her breathing, trembling fingers curled around the edges of the sink with a white-knuckled grip. The sound of running footsteps seemed to echo around her along with the angry howls of men and the terrified screaming of children. She could feel phantom hands on her and the crunch of her nose as it was kicked in. She hunched over the sink, shoulders shaking and legs barely able to support her weight as her breathing began to pick up speed. It seemed like she could still see the gaping hole where Hiroko’s eye had been in the afterimage imprinted on the insides of her eyelids. 

A sob escaped her lips, her whole body lurching, and her legs gave out beneath her. She tumbled from the stool, landing on the hard ground and earning herself a nasty scrape across her bare arm. She knew it was there, could feel the dull throbbing of a new wound, but she hardly even noticed. She was far too busy trying to remember how to breath, her mouth gaping wide open as she pressed the heels of her hands tightly against her eyes, like if she pressed hard enough she might be able to destroy the horrific images that still lingered there. 

Trembling, she rolled onto her stomach and crawled her way over to the bed. Even as out of it as she was, with the mounting panic attack, she knew that staying on the ground like that wasn’t a smart idea. She hoisted herself up and lay on the thin mattress, still gasping for breath as thin streaks of blood stained the stark white sheets. She sobbed, throwing her head back to bounce against the mattress before she curled up on herself, shoulders shaking and each breath tearing itself painfully from her throat. 

As she screamed, the sound muffled by her knees, some distant part of her mind hoped that this would be over before the next medic walked in. The last thing she needed was for word to get back to Orochimaru and Kabuto that she wasn’t handling things well. If she wanted to be accepted and trusted here, then they couldn’t know how unstable and upset she was. 

Mayuri latched onto that thought. Slowly, desperately, she used it to pull herself up towards the peaceful, happy persona she wanted them to see. By the time the medic arrived, she was that child once more, doing her best to face the world she had found herself a part of. 

.

On the third day after she had woken up, Mayuri was taken to a room that reminded her vaguely of a coliseum, with a large arena-like pit and a balcony with a single throne-like chair overlooking it. She stood in the pit, feeling small and insignificant as she looked up at Orochimaru’s blurry form. She wished, for what felt like the hundredth time, that she had her glasses. After all, she figured that there was a small chance that if she could see him well enough to be able to tell what he was thinking, she might be able to figure out what he wanted from her. If she could just figure that out, she could improvise and work from there. 

“Have you liked your room, my dear?” he asked, scratchy voice sounding suspiciously kind. She couldn’t tell if he was mocking her or not. So she gathered her courage and smiled up at him, trying to make it as bright and cheerful as she could manage. When she spoke, she did her best to ensure that her voice was as childish and innocent as could be.

“I really like it!” she announced, doing her best not to think too hard on why she was in a coliseum, or of what could have happened here to leave those dark stains on the ground beneath her bare feet. “It’s nice to have my own bedroom and bathroom, but I miss my sister. Do you think we can share a room soon?”

“We will see,” he said, that strange hint of amusement in his voice. Mayuri was relieved; at least he didn’t sound angry yet. She wondered how much she might be able to get away with asking for before he began getting angry. After a second of contemplation, she decided against making any more requests for the time being, if she could help it. She wasn’t even entirely certain what else she would ask for. After all, there wasn’t much she wanted that had even the slightest chance of being given. 

Freedom? As if that would ever happen. To go home? She wasn’t even sure if he knew how they had ended up here. A pair of goddamn shoes? If he had wanted her to have them, she would have received them by now. No, there wasn’t really anything that she could think to ask him for that there was even a chance he would grant.

“Thank you, Orochimaru-sama!” she said instead. She had always been good at playing innocent and hoped that her skills in that regard would hold up to his scrutiny. He hummed, and she could feel his sharp eyes on her. She wished once more that she knew what he was thinking. After a second, he spoke again.

“I heard that you had something of an incident with a medic,” he murmured, sharp eyes not leaving her face and his lips pulled into a smirk. Mayuri felt her face go pale. She dropped her gaze to the ground and fought back the waves of nausea that rolled over her. She had been trying to ignore the guilt that rose every time she thought about Emi. She was still allowing herself to pretend it had been nothing but a nightmare. She knew she would have to face what she had done eventually, but she just _couldn’t_. Not yet. If Orochimaru forced her to speak of it, forced her to admit that it had really happened, she wasn’t sure what she would do. How was she supposed to live with the fact that she had killed someone? Even if it had been an accident, even if the woman had done horrible things to her, she had never wanted to become a killer. All she had wanted to do was escape the awful pain.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she whispered. There was a pause and for a second Mayuri wondered if, after everything she had survived up to that point, Orochimaru would kill her then and there. The air felt too heavy and she felt like she was going to suffocate. She could practically envision every way he could kill her from where he lounged and the way her blood would become just another dark stain upon the stones for another child to wonder about in the future. Her knees were trembling beneath her, her whole body shaking violently as tears welled in her eyes. What would happen to Hiroko if she died?

“Very well,” he said at last, waving one hand dismissively, and suddenly she could breath again, the tension seeming to evaporate from the air and drain from her body. She breathed a sigh of relief, only to have that breath catch in her throat as he continued. “However, I hope you will not forget that moment. We will be speaking of it later.”

She bowed low, mumbling out her thanks for his patience with her. He hummed, and without any further discussion, dismissed her. As she walked from the room, back straight and each of her footsteps echoing eerily throughout the empty space, she could feel his eyes on her. A chill climbed her spine, and she had the sudden sneaking suspicion that he _knew_ of her farce. She quickened her pace, afraid that he would call out to her again and his smile would be wide and twisted as he told her that he knew that her cheeriness was just a facade, and she would have to face the truth of her own emotions and the consequences of her lies.

Much to her relief, though, his voice did not ring through the room and call her back. As she passed through the entryway, she allowed herself to slump and covered her face with her hands, taking a few deep breaths. Then, she straightened up once more and faced Kabuto, who was waiting for her with an expression that she couldn’t quite place.

“Orochimaru-sama is very strong, isn’t he?” she murmured, the tiniest hint of a smile pulling up the corner of her lips. She knew her face was pale and her hands trembling, and wondered what Kabuto would make of it. 

“Yes, he is,” he answered simply. There was no smile on his face. It was something of a relief, really, and she let her own forced smile fade. Kabuto offered her a hand, which she took without hesitation as he said, “Are you ready to go back to your room? There are still a few more samples that I’ll need to collect before you go to bed.” 

She nodded, and together they walked back. 

A few days later, a shinobi she had never seen before led her to a room with two beds. Mayuri smiled for real, daring to let herself hope, and when Hiroko walked in the corridor echoed with a loud shriek of excitement.


	14. Herd Mentality

When Mayuri finally worked up the courage to ask Kabuto about how he learned to move so silently, he produced tiny silver bells. 

“What do I do with these?” Mayuri asked, taking them and examining them curiously. They looked totally normal as they glinted in the warm light of the torches. Kabuto had made a soft, breathy sound that she had never heard before. It took her a second to realize that it was a laugh. 

“You wear them,” he told her, eyes alight with amusement and hands already moving to tie them around her wrists and ankles. “When you can step lightly enough and move with enough control that they don’t make a sound, then you’ll be able to apply that knowledge to your everyday life. There is another way, but it requires a chakra control that you won’t have for years yet.”

Mayuri nodded thoughtfully and shook her hands, delighted at the cheerful tinkling sound that they made. “I guess if I’m already good enough to be quiet without chakra, by the time I _can_ use it, that means I’ll just be even better than anybody from any of the other villages! Right?”

Kabuto hummed, his smile soft and distant, his eyes narrowed and sharp. It was a strange contrast, but one that she had come to associate with him. At this age, he had apparently not yet perfected his facade of the cheerful, hapless boy. Or maybe he had, and since she already knew the truth, she could see what lay beneath. Perhaps he just didn’t bother to fully employ it when he was in Otogakure. Either way, she wasn’t going to be the one to point out the flaws in his mask. It was better if he didn’t know that she was on to him.

.

The first year seemed to pass rather quickly. Their bodies were still too young and weak from the time spent floating in the tanks to go through any kind of vigorous physical activity, and their chakra coils were too undeveloped to risk any kind of training with their kekkei genkai or any jutsus, lest they damage them beyond the help of any medic. So instead, their learning and development focused mostly on some light endurance and flexibility training (which it soon became clear that, much to their relief, they were exceedingly good at), memorizing handsigns, and the slow and frustrating process of learning to read and write. 

Each day was so full and busy that it left very little time for either of them to dwell on the dark thoughts that lurked within both of their minds. They would complete their lessons and then fall into bed immediately afterwards, their tiny bodies unused to so much activity. Even with heads full of fear and chests heavy with the grief of two families lost in a single blow, it wasn’t enough to keep their eyes open once their heads hit the pillows. Both of the girls buried the grief and the uncertainties deep within themselves. Even on days when it seemed too hard to rise from the bed, that niggling instinct of “move or die” remained, driving them to pull themselves free of the covers and forcing their feet to carry them to their lessons. On those days, it was a staunch reminder of how much they needed each other. Even with the threat of death hanging over their heads, neither of them were sure that they would bother to get out of bed without the prompting – and sometimes, begging – that the other offered. Time passed, and they taught themselves to cope in different ways, and feared the day that they would have to face those dark things within themselves. 

Even though that first year seemed to be a relatively minor part of their schooling and development, it felt as though Orochimaru’s shadow still loomed over them at all times. Their reading teacher’s favorite pastime seemed to be pointing out how blessed they were for a man as busy as the Otokage to have taken a personal interest in their schooling. He attended their lessons once a week, sharp eyes assessing their progress. He would even offer soft words of encouragement when they accomplished one milestone or another. It was strange, yet somehow, the hard-won words of praise were enough to make Hiroko and Mayuri light up despite themselves. It was hard not to, when he was one of the only people they interacted with with any frequency, that first year. Although they took their meals in the cafeteria with whoever else from the village was already in there, outside of that, the girls’ social circle was comprised only of Orochimaru, Kabuto, the seal master, one sensei for their reading and writing lessons, one for their stretches and conditioning, and a medic for their weekly checkups. Six people wasn’t much of a social circle for two girls who had grown up surrounded by family and friends and just other people in general.

Their whole world consisted of only a handful of rooms, each one with the same stone walls and flickering torches. Some days, it felt like even when they were moving from place to place, they hadn’t switched locations at all. It was frustrating, and it was also frightening. There were days that Mayuri began to wonder if any of this were real at all and where Hiroko could swear that the walls of each room were beginning to inch ever closer. They missed the sky, the sun, the world in general. Living underground didn’t agree with them. 

The passage of time was also something that seemed to escape them both. There were no clocks and no windows, yet everyone around them seemed to be operating on the same schedule. It was a schedule that neither of the girls had really adjusted to yet. Their lessons seemed to drag on and on one day, yet be over in a flash the next. It was disorienting in a way that neither had ever truly experienced before. There had always been day and night, clocks and cell phones, ways to see and track the minutes and hours as they passed by. Even seasons were lost to them here. The caves were all carefully climate controlled and stale, chilly air was constantly cycled through the ventilation system, making every day just the same as the last no matter what time of year it might have been. It was strange, only being able to rely on the people around them to know what day it was and how long had passed. Most of the time, they weren’t certain what time of the year it was or even how old they were. It was a terribly humbling thing, being so reliant on those around them for something that they had once taken entirely for granted. In a desperate bid to make herself feel better and less worried about the minutes that kept slipping away without her notice, Mayuri liked to remind herself, over and over again, that time was an illusion; a man-made social construct. Somehow, it didn’t really help at all.

Isolated as they were, it was far too easy to forget that Orochimaru was the reason they had suffered so much those first few months and his part in their mother and grandmother’s deaths. No one in the entire underground village seemed to have a single bad thing to say about him. The only stories anyone had to tell were of his generosity, of how he had saved them or their clan or their loved ones. He had offered a future and a home to many shinobi who had given up hope for a future for themselves. The only complaints they ever heard were of the long missions that the shinobi of the village were often sent on and the occasional deaths that resulted from said missions, but even then, everyone was quick to point out that they were necessary and that such things were impossible to avoid in a shinobi village, especially one that was just starting out. On more than one occasion, the sisters had even listened in open-mouthed shock as villagers shared tales of Orochimaru’s kindness over their meals, too confused and uncertain to contradict the other villagers’ words with their own horrific experiences. It was hard to regale the evil that they had witnessed and experienced with the man the other villagers sang praises about. It was far easier to slip into the same mindset that everyone they came into contact with held.

Even with that mindset slowly taking root within her mind, Mayuri still dreamed of dark eyes staring at her from a disembodied head and of blood squishing beneath her feet. She would dream of a medic with kind eyes and a bright smile, whose hands hurt instead of healed, and whose blood had dried beneath her fingernails. When she woke up from those nightmares, it was easier to remember the cruelty of Orochimaru’s amusement and the way his golden eyes had been alight with a malicious enjoyment as he watched her fly into a rage. She would stare down at her hands, flexing her fingers and watching the tendons move beneath her skin. She wanted to become stronger and to be able to protect herself and her sister, but when she remembered how easily Orochimaru had killed her mother and how Emi’s face had looked as she died, she wasn’t sure if she could ever become that kind of person. When she realized that those memories were already beginning to grow fuzzy around the edges when they weren’t sending her into panic attacks, she wasn’t sure whether to be grateful or not. Even so, she did her best to hold on to them and to the way they made her feel. She didn’t want to ever forget the truth.

Hiroko, in turn, often found her thoughts wandering back to empty cots, crying children, and the genjutsu Orochimaru had put her under. She would stare at her hands and chase the subcutaneous warmth that was always flowing through her, just out of her reach. She could almost grasp it, even with the seals that crawled across her flesh in elegant black swirls. It was strange, even painful, to think that so many children had succumbed to the powers that were flowing through her veins. She wondered if it made her bad, to still want to use these abilities and to want that fire to fill her once again. Then, she would recall the look on her sister’s face as she was impaled and the way her blood had looked against the ice that Hiroko had created. Even though she knew that that moment had not been real, even with Mayuri sleeping restlessly in the bed across from her, she would shiver and allow the fire within her chest to die down into ashes. She told herself that she wouldn’t let anyone into her mind like that again, and resolved to find the abilities and the strength to keep them out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright everyone, a short transitional chapter this week! We go back into being a little more focused and in-depth next chapter, but I've got a 12 hour drive tomorrow (technically today!) and its been an exceedingly stressful day so I'm afraid I don't have the energy to write and edit much more at the moment. I'm going to be visiting family for the holidays, so there's a good chance that there won't be an update next week. (And possibly the week after that? We'll see.) So I really hope that you enjoyed this chapter, and this little glimpse into what's going on in the girls' lives and heads.
> 
> Now, a little poll for everyone! I've got 90% of this fic and its plot points already planned out in advance, but there's one thing I keep going back and forth over; what age do I want to make the girls, exactly? I've got it narrowed down, as I'm sure some of you have guessed from the ages given to other canon characters that have shown up as well as from how new Otogakure is as a village, but I keep changing my mind about their exact ages. So, here's where I'd like to hear more from you all! (Hint: There's a tiny bit of a spoiler here, so if you don't want that, stop reading now!)
> 
> Hiroko and Mayuri are either going to be a year older, a year younger, or the same age as the main Naruto cast. What would you like to see? Leave your response in the comments or drop me a PM either here or on tumblr. (I go by daboyau there!) Thanks, and I hope that whatever holidays you do or do not celebrate, the rest of your weeks are happy ones! See you next time, and as always, thank you for reading!


	15. Pretty Lies and Ugly Truths

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh hey, this is actually getting out a bit earlier than I had originally planned it to be ready. So I think I'm doing pretty good for myself!
> 
> There aren't a lot of warnings for this chapter, really. Discussions of death and those left behind, a brief mention of alcohol, and pain. The usual, really.
> 
> I hope that you all enjoy this chapter. Happy New Year, everyone!

“What if something happens to mom? Who’s gonna watch out for the kids?” Mayuri murmured, her knees pulled tight to her chest. Hiroko watched the shadows play on the far wall, getting caught in the nooks and crannies of the stone. It was frighteningly easy to find figures and faces in the darkness. She didn’t turn to look at her sister, who was curled up on the mattress just a few feet away from her. She could feel her body warmth from this distance, like a beacon in the cool cave air.

“Isaac will watch out for the girls,” she managed after a long moment. The words felt heavy on her tongue, something bittersweet in the statement. It was painful to think of the family that had been left behind. She hadn’t seen them for months Before, and now would never see them again. She pulled her hair over her shoulder and ran her fingers through it, black strands getting caught between her clammy fingers and tugging at her scalp. She felt the thin mattress dip as Mayuri shifted, turning to face her.

“Isaac? He’s barely 16; still a baby! I was...well, I was wondering who they’d live with if mom and dad weren’t around anymore.” Her voice was tight and rasping, like she was trying to hold back tears. “I always figured that if something happened, I’d be the one to take them in. But if we’re here….” she trailed off.

Hiroko found her mouth was suddenly too dry to form a response; how was she supposed to tell her sister that she had been dead for almost three years? She had no idea why it was that _she_ knew that they were dead, but her sister didn’t seem to have any clue. Or did she, and she just wasn’t aware of how long it had been? She sometimes spoke about getting back, about seeing their family and friends again someday. Was she serious, or were those just pretty dreams? Hiroko couldn’t tell. But if Mayuri truly didn’t realize, the way Hiroko suspected…. Well, she couldn’t help but wonder if it had something to do with the ways they had died, or if it was maybe because Mayuri had been dead for longer than she had. Maybe there was no reason at all, and fate was just terribly cruel and was having a laugh at their expense; that was the most likely option, in her opinion.

No matter the reason, her pondering didn’t answer the question of what she would tell her sister. It seemed almost cruel to tell her that Isaac had grown and matured so much after her death, had stepped up to watch out for his little sisters when she hadn’t been able to be there for them. That Olivia had a part-time job at a museum and had decided that she wanted to be an art teacher, and she would never get the chance to watch her accomplish that dream. That their baby sister, Uriel, had finally cut her hair short after more than a decade of growing it out, and that she would never be able to see the way the change had drawn attention to the fact that her smile was growing just a little brighter with each day that passed since their oldest sibling had died so suddenly. (When would any of them learn to smile again, now that they had lost not one, but two big sisters? She would never see any of their babies’ dreams come true, neither of them would, _and oh God why_ —)

How was she supposed to tell Mayuri that the world had moved on without her? She didn’t want to. She _couldn’t_. But she knew she had to. 

Hiroko opened her mouth, but the words just wouldn’t come. They caught in her throat and choked her. There were tears streaming down her face and a sob broke from her throat unbidden, ugly and horrified. Quickly, she covered her mouth with her hand, trying to muffle the sound. Her chest felt too tight, like there was a weight resting on it as the walls began to close in.

“Oh, shit,” she heard Mayuri mutter, and then the next thing she knew she was pulled into her sister’s arms. Mayuri was running a soothing hand over her back, petting her hair, murmuring soft apologies and half-formed assurances. Hiroko sagged, guilt and relief weighing heavy on her shoulders in equal measure. She felt Mayuri hook her chin over her shoulder, and Hiroko was sure that her spill of black hair was getting in her sister’s mouth, and she would find chunks of saliva-hardened hair later. She supposed it was fair, considering that her own snot and tears were soiling Mayuri’s long locks as well. Through her hiccupping sobs, she managed to choke out a strangled apology.

“No, it’s okay. You don’t have anything to apologize for,” Mayuri soothed, her breath ghosting over Hiroko’s neck as she spoke and raising goosebumps across her skin. “I know you’re not ready to talk about it. I’m sorry.”

And that wasn’t right, not really, but Hiroko couldn’t bring herself to correct Mayuri’s assumption. She wondered if Mayuri resented her for her tears, for not allowing her to get her own emotions off her chest. She buried her face into her sister’s shoulder and squeezed her eyes shut, sobbing even harder. She promised herself that as soon as she caught her breath, she’d tell Mayuri the truth. 

But she never did.

.

The seal master called himself Kaito. Hiroko suspected that that wasn’t his real name, but could never seem to bring herself to ask. She had plenty of other questions that invoked her curiosity, though, and which name he prefered to use wasn’t high on her list. 

“How come you have to redo the seals so much?” she questioned irritably, watching Mayuri shiver in the chilly air of their cell-masquerading-as-a-bedroom as he ran his hands over her back, palms glowing. The black marks that climbed the ridge of her spine moved as though they were alive, wriggling to encompass her shoulder blades and then spreading further to cover the entirety of her back, taking different shapes under his thoughtful gaze.

“The seals are still imperfect, Hiroko-chan,” he answered, eyes not moving from his work. Hiroko shifted, pulling her knees up to her chest and resting her chin on top of them. She was wary of this man, though he had done nothing to really hurt her or her sister. He was kind, as many of the people she had met, however briefly, seemed to be in this place. She hated it. They were all supposed to be the bad guys. 

“Why don’t you just make them perfect then? I thought you said you were a master,” she snarked, words muffled against her knees. Kaito didn’t bother to answer her, but his gnarled fingers twitched slightly and Hiroko saw Mayuri’s shoulders tense and heard her soft intake of breath. Her hands clenched into fists and her next words came out as barely a whisper. “I’m sorry, Kaito-san. Please don’t hurt her.”

After a moment of heavy silence, the old man drew his hands away, the glow ceasing. The black marks settled. At last, he turned to look at her. His grey eyes were sad and thoughtful as he handed Mayuri her top without looking at her, face turned respectfully away as she redressed. 

“I don’t hurt either of you on purpose, Hiroko-chan. Seals take concentration, and ones applied to humans bodies and chakra networks are particularly delicate.”

Mayuri gingerly settled herself on her bed, legs crossed. The seal had been steadily decreasing in size as time passed. In just under a year, it had gone from covering most of her body in black zigzags to being concentrated to only her torso. Likewise for Hiroko’s swirling design. The removal and application of the seals hadn’t gotten any less painful, though. It left both of the girls feeling sore and left Hiroko grouchy and Mayuri lethargic after each session.

“How are you feeling, Mayuri-chan?” Kaito asked, turning back to face her. Mayuri offered him a crooked grin in response. It looked almost real, but Hiroko knew her sister well enough to know which smile she wore when she was trying to convince others that she was okay. Something ugly and dark had settled into Hiroko’s chest, coiled like a snake as it constricted around her heart as she watched her sister pretend that the world wasn’t disgustingly _wrong_. 

“It hurts a little bit, but it’s nothing I’m not used to! I’ll be fine.”

Hiroko scowled into her knees and held her tongue, barely stopping herself from calling her sister out on her bullshit. She resisted the urge to flinch as Kaito turned his attention on her.

She knew the drill, of course, and knew better than to fight him on this. With a sigh, she shrugged off her wrap-top so it pooled around her waist and turned so her back faced him. She shivered as his hands moved carefully across the seals inked on her shoulder blades, fingertips skimming across the matrix and filling her with ice. It wasn’t the dread that he would try something, not anymore. Instead, she was anticipating the painful removal of the seal and the way the warmth would fill her even as ice crept across her skin. 

“Are you ready?” the old man asked, and Hiroko couldn’t help but think that he must be very brave. He was in a cell with two girls who could probably kill him completely by accident the moment he removed their seals, and had declined the offer to have anyone else in there with them because he knew it made them uncomfortable to have Orochimaru’s soldiers see them like this. On second thought, she actually wasn’t sure if he was kind, or brave, or just really stupid. 

Clenching her teeth and squeezing her eyes shut, Hiroko nodded. Then, without any other warning, the pain ripped through her, sudden and intense. She screamed, limbs jerking as fire flooded her nerve endings. There was a part of her that wished that she could remain stoic and quiet through the pain like her sister, who only showed her agony through soft grunts and tense muscles. Still, it was somewhat cathartic to scream her pain away. In her life Before, she had always done her best to stay silent when she was _actually_ hurt. This was a new world, a new life, and she had decided early on that she would scream if she wanted to.

Mayuri had told her once, after the lights were all out and they were huddled together under the blankets, that she was jealous of how easy it was for Hiroko to show her true emotions. It had shocked her to hear that at first, but it was just how they worked. They each seemed to envy something the other person had, something that was just an essential part of who they each were. It was something that had taken both of them years to come to terms with, Before. It seemed like it would be just as hard this time around, too. 

By the time Kaito was finished reconstructing the seal, Hiroko was breathing hard, tears staining her cheeks. She scowled angrily and pulled away from him, yanking her shirt back into place with trembling hands. Her movements were jerky and rough, and she spat some choice words over her shoulder at the old man when he asked her how she felt. Kaito backed away calmly, never once ruffled by her anger. When she turned around, Mayuri was watching her with eyes that seemed to say, “apologize to the nice man.”

Hiroko was determined to do no such thing. Instead, she pulled her blanket up around her shoulders and glared at him. Mayuri rolled her eyes but didn’t say anything; they both knew that getting her to apologize was a battle that couldn’t be won. They both waited in silence as Kaito scribbled something down in the notepad he seemed to always carry with him. They knew what would come next, and it was the one thing they looked forward to in their sessions with him.

“Well, girls, I think we’re done here,” he said, tucking his notes away and stepping towards the door. 

On cue, they both chorused, “But what about the story?” 

It was easy to fall into the rhythm of being children around him. After a year, it only sometimes made her skin crawl to hear her own high, lisping voice and it didn’t bother her to see the world in sizes too large anymore. Too often, though, she found it hard to act the part of the child she was supposed to be. With Kaito – who treated them not only like children, but like people, too – it felt nice to let herself behave like the child her brain and body still insisted she was. 

“Oh, of course. I did promise, didn’t I?” he said, turning back towards the girls with a playful little smile. Hiroko thought that maybe he had had grandchildren once. It would explain why he was so good with children, and why he had grown so fond of her and Mayuri so quickly. It would also explain the sad look he had sometimes, when he looked at them.

Mayuri jumped up, pulling her blankets off the bed as she bounced over to settle down next to Hiroko, almost right on top of her. Kaito waited patiently while the sisters adjusted themselves, Hiroko scooting away from her sister and Mayuri pouting over the loss of contact. Once they were all set, both bundled up in their blankets, Kaito settled himself down on the adjacent bed. He groaned softly, old joints creaking with his careful movements. Hiroko was of the opinion he was about a hundred years old, given his weathered face and sparse hair, which was stark white except for one blood red streak at his temple. Mayuri always shushed her whenever she suggested they ask him. 

“Years ago, when I was still a young man, there was a village by the sea,” he began, as he always did. The sisters sat in silence, enraptured by the tales he told of a thriving village and the people living there. He would tell stories of the shenanigans friends and neighbors would get up to, but never spoke of his own family. Sometimes, he would trail off sadly, lost in some memory that neither of the girls would likely ever hear about. She figured it was probably for the best. They had enough loss and guilt on their plates to last a lifetime, and certainly didn’t need his added on top of that.

.

_(“I don’t want to be here anymore,” Elle murmurs. They’re sitting in the living room, both of them tense and nervous. Mom is at choir practice and Isaac is asleep in his crib, and they don’t dare to speak above a whisper for fear of waking their dad, who’s passed out in the opposite room. The smell of alcohol seems to hang in the air around them._

_“Where do you want to be, instead?” Avery asks. Elle shrugs, not sure what to say. Her words are just thoughts that leave her mouth, twisting towards the sky and finding freedom in the air like butterflies, only to be scooped up by hungry birds seconds later. Her wishes are delicate, insubstantial things, doomed to be crushed by reality._

_“I dunno. Anywhere would be better than here.”_

_Avery hums, twisting to look upstairs. Her head is cocked, expression thoughtful, and Elle knows that she is listening for the sound of a baby waking from his nap. When there is no cry or tiny whimper, she turns to look Elle in the eyes, expression serious and grave. Elle stares back, confused by the sudden change in her demeanor._

_“If you ever really want to run away, I’ll go with you. I’ll try to talk you out of it, of course, but I still want you to know that. I’m gonna be here if you need me and I’ll run away with you if you want me to. If you leave, I will, too. It would dangerous to go by yourself.” Her words hold the weight of a promise, and Elle’s eyes go wide before a slow grin spreads across her face. It’s her sister’s turn to look confused._

_“Do you wanna run away with me now?” she asks, the thrill of excitement building in her chest and making her heart flutter. There’s a flicker of worry, and then something clicks in her sister’s mind, and Avery’s answering smile is bright and amused._

_They don’t pack any bags. They just pull on shoes and make sure that the door doesn’t slam on their way out. The sunshine is bright and the air wonderfully warm. The wind blows, as fierce and wild as it always is, whipping their hair around their faces and into their mouths as they walk together to the high school. Neither of them are old enough yet to go to school there, but they have been playing on the steep hill that lies behind it for years now. It’s there that they settle down in the grass, sitting close enough that their shoulders brush. It’s comforting and exhilarating, to be here under the premise of escape. Her heart feels light in her chest as they sit and talk and laugh, not bothering to keep their voices soft. Their words are carried away by the wind, up into the sky and towards the sun._

_Elle knows that it can’t last. She knows that when they go home their father will still be there, and that their mother will be waiting to demand why they left their baby brother alone. She knows that she’ll want to scream back, will want to demand her own answers; why were_ we _left alone? Why is it_ our _responsibility? Our father is right there. Why doesn’t_ he _take care of the baby, instead? But instead of speaking, she’ll just squeeze Avery’s hand and scowl and bite her tongue and fight back tears, because she knows the answer to that question. She won’t fight back, too ashamed of leaving Isaac alone for her tongue to form the words needed to scream back at their mother._

_She knows what waits for them, but in this moment she takes comfort in the sunshine and the laughter and the promise her sister has made. She commits to memory the feeling of the grass beneath her and the warmth on her skin, and the feeling in her heart. She holds onto it, and she promises that she’ll never let it go.)_

. 

One night, long after lights out, Mayuri turned to look at Hiroko. In the flickering light of the one torch they were allowed after bedtime, she could just make out the way Mayuri’s brow was creased in thought, how her lips pressed into a thin line. Hiroko sighed and sat up, trying her best to blink the heaviness from her eyes as she waited for her sister to make whatever revelation she was stewing over. She hadn’t been asleep anyways, still unused to the quiet of the caverns after years of living in the city. The quiet crackle of the ever-burning torches and the occasional sound of people moving past their closed door was never enough to replace the constant sound of _life_ that had surrounded her at all times in the city. They both knew it, so there was no use pretending that she had actually been resting this early in the night to avoid whatever troubling things were on Mayuri’s mind. After a long moment, Mayuri pushed herself up, too, and met Hiroko’s eyes. 

“I think that Kaito might be from Uzushiogakure,” she murmured in english, her lips pursed as she continued to consider whatever thoughts were running through her mind. Hiroko sighed but didn’t lay back down. If her sister was breaking out the “twin-speak” for this conversation, that probably meant it was important. Mayuri was constantly paranoid about being watched or overheard, even when they were alone. She almost never spoke in english for fear that it would draw suspicion to them, so when she did, that meant that whatever she was going to say would be important, and something that she absolutely did not want Orochimaru or any of his followers to learn about. 

“Yuri, I don’t actually know what that is.”

“Oh.” She paused, brow furrowed as she blinked in surprise, as though most of their conversations about the intricacies of this world didn’t start out with Hiroko saying those exact same words. She licked her lips and swallowed twice before continuing. “It’s, uh, it’s where Naruto’s mom was from. I think it was destroyed in one of the wars. I can’t remember which one. But it means that he’s probably an Uzumaki, and the fact that he’s so old but still going strong only contributes to that theory.”

Hiroko considered her words as she watched the shadows dance across the walls and across her sister’s face, turning it gaunt and ghoulish. Neither of them had seen sunlight in over a year and it showed in ugly ways. Their hair had lost any lustre it had once had and it seemed as though the color had been leached from their skin. Mayuri, with her white and black hair, looked sickly and ghost-like in the dim lights of the underground village. Hiroko did her best not to look in any mirrors, but she knew that if she did, she probably wouldn’t look any better. She sighed, not really sure what it was that her sister was trying to get at. What did it matter where Kaito came from?

“I don’t really remember much from the series,” Hiroko reminded again after a moment. Mayuri snorted and made no move to explain her statement any further, so Hiroko glared in return. They had already had this discussion before, but Hiroko didn’t like being reminded that her sister knew more about this world, if only by a small margin. She made a face. “We can’t all be mega-nerds, you know.”

Mayuri squawked her offense at that, but made no other move to deny it. Hiroko laughed softly as she lay back down, resettling herself in the strangely large bed. It had been a long day, and even though they hadn’t done anything more strenuous than their usual exercises and walking back and forth from their classes to the cafeteria, to her four year old body, it was more than enough to leave her exhausted. She was just starting to drift off when Mayuri spoke up again, her high little voice soft and thoughtful, as though she weren’t really talking to Hiroko at all.

“I think we need to start writing down what we remember about this universe,” she whispered, and when Hiroko groaned and turned to look at her again, Mayuri was staring at the ceiling, expression distant. “I’m starting to forget things about it, and I think that if we’re going to leave Orochimaru-sama, we’re going to need something to bargain with if we want another village to take us in and protect us from him.” 

At this, Hiroko shot up, suddenly wide awake. She stared at her sister’s still form with wide eyes, mouth hanging slightly open. Mayuri dropped her gaze from the shadowed ceiling so she could return the stare with distant, tired eyes. She looked resigned, like she had been expecting this reaction. 

“ _What_?” Hiroko hissed, her voice higher than usual with the stress and fear that was already filling her. She was almost convinced that she must have misheard, must have misunderstood the english spilling awkwardly from her sister’s mouth. Mayuri frowned.

“Did you _want_ to stay here?” she asked, soft but firm. She licked her lips and took a deep breath, visibly steeling herself before she continued. “If you do, then I’ll stay with you, but...well, he’s the one behind all the pain we’ve had to endure since waking up here.”

She didn’t bother to say anything about the nightmares they both still had about dying at the hands of their clansmen. They had both agreed that the little girls who had been killed weren’t the same people they were after being revived. Still, it was hard not to think about it sometimes.

“I don’t _want_ to stay here, but...Mayuri, we don’t know anything else _but_ here. For all we know, Orochimaru-sama could be one of the nicer people of this world.” 

And wasn’t this a strange role-reversal. It was usually Mayuri lecturing Hiroko, telling her to think things through and to err on the side of caution. Hiroko wasn’t sure what to do with this. They had speculated about running away before, on leaving Otogakure and never looking back, but she had never really considered those discussions to be wholly serious ones. She had never realized that her sister had been seriously thinking about it.

Mayuri shifted to face her fully, hands on her knees and face set in stone. “I’m not saying we should just pack up and leave right now. But I think we should be prepared, in case the option ever presents itself. We should find some way to explore outside the base and try to make connections with...well, anyone that’s not under Orochimaru’s thumb, really. If you want to stay here, Hiroko, we will. I’ll stay with you no matter what you choose. But...well, please think about it.”

Hiroko tried to ignore the twist of discomfort in her stomach, the fear and uncertainty she felt at what her sister was suggesting and at the fact that suddenly, it was up to her to decide. She didn’t want that responsibility laid upon her shoulders, an additional measure of stress and uncertainty and guilt to add to the steadily increasing pile. Instead, she just nodded. 

Mayuri watched her with narrow eyes, her expression closed off and unreadable. She couldn’t tell what her sister was thinking and decided to not even try to guess. Hiroko pulled the blanket over her head and tried her best to go back to sleep under Mayuri’s burning gaze.


	16. Snapshots

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again, everyone. Sorry for the wait. We've had a death in the family and I'm going to be driving halfway across the country this weekend in order to move in with my grandparents and help take care of them, so my update schedule is going to be a bit wonky for a little while while I adjust to that. Thank you for your patience and understanding.
> 
> This chapter is really just a peek into the girls' day-to-day life, that first year. They aren't necessarily in any sort of chronological order. I hope you enjoy, and as always, please let me know your thoughts. Thank you.

Juro-sensei towered over the girls at an even six feet and weighed in at a bit over 200 pounds. His favorite activity seemed to be doing handstands on his students’ backs as they sat in a straddle position and tried to get their stomachs to touch the ground. When he wasn’t doing that, he was standing on various body parts or leaning almost his whole weight on them in order to get them to stretch themselves to their limits. It was painful and the noises that escaped through teeth gritted in pain were embarrassing, but Mayuri couldn’t deny that the results were impressive. She had never been able to do a full split no matter how hard she had tried, Before, since most of her flexibility was in her back and shoulders. Now she could. (Though she admittedly wasn’t sure what good it was going to do her.)

“Brace yourself, Hiroko-chan,” Juro said, his voice cheerful as he stepped on Hiroko’s right foot and forced her other leg up until it was behind her head. Mayuri winced in sympathy, watching the scene upside down as she balanced in a handstand against the wall. The blood was rushing to her head, and she knew that her face would be an unattractive shade of red when she stood back up.

Her sister had had years of gymnastics training, but that was a whole different life, and an entirely different body. It was easy to see how frustrated it made her to _know_ what each movement and position was supposed to be, yet find herself unable to do them. Even with those years of experience, though, Mayuri didn’t think that Hiroko had ever been pushed to her limits by any of the coaches before Juro. She could sympathise; though she hadn’t taken any classes until she was in her 20’s, none of her instructors had ever forced her beyond her limits like Juro did.

“Keep holding that handstand, Mayuri-chan!” Juro called without looking at her, and she barely bit back a groan.

“Yes, sensei!” she managed through gritted teeth, trying to regulate her breathing and ignore the burning in her muscles. Her arms were trembling already, and not even a full minute had passed. 

“Just ten more seconds,” he announced, and Mayuri wasn’t sure which one of them he was talking to. She hoped it was both of them, really, because as much as she was worried she wouldn’t be able to hold her position much longer, Hiroko looked like she was seconds away from snapping. Her face was screwed up in pain, her cheeks flushed red and teeth grinding as Juro inched her foot further behind her head towards the opposite shoulder. They were both shaking violently by the time Juro announced that they could relax. 

Mayuri collapsed to the ground as she finally allowed her elbows to fold beneath her, chin scraping against the stone. Hiroko let out a huge sigh of relief as Juro stepped back and allowed her to untwist herself from her pretzel-like position. For one blessed second, they were both allowed to relax and catch their breaths. Mayuri’s head was pounding as the blood that had flooded it struggled to return to her extremities.

“Alright, time to switch!” Juro announced, clapping his hands together. The sound echoed throughout the high-ceilinged room. Hiroko pushed herself away from the wall and walked, unsteadily, to where Mayuri lay on the ground. With a soft moan, Mayuri rolled to her feet and brushed her hands together to rid them of the pebbles that had embedded themselves into the soft flesh of her palms. They grinned at one another, smiles stretched thin and full of the stress of their lesson, but not altogether unhappy. They high fived and traded off, Hiroko pushing herself up into a flawless handstand, feet barely brushing the wall, while Mayuri trudged over to their sensei.

“Have you been practicing your chest stands?” he asked with a grin, and Mayuri felt her heart fall.

“Not as much as I probably should have been,” she admitted, not meeting his eye. Juro laughed and reached out to ruffle her hair, and sometimes it was easy to forget that that gentle hand could kill her easily. She ducked her head, feeling her face growing red again.

“Well, we’ll have to work on that, kiddo. Show me what you’ve got.”

.

After the first few times he sat in on their reading lessons, it was surprisingly easy to forget that Orochimaru was in the room at all. For the most part, he did not speak or even seem to be paying attention to them in any way. He always had papers spread out on the desk in front of him and an ink well and brush on hand to make marks or sign his name where it was needed. The scene was strangely domestic.

It reminded Mayuri of school, when there was that odd sense of peace that settled over the room as students were instructed to silently work on their homework while the teacher graded papers or caught up on their own work. The only real difference was the fact that there were only two students and an overly attentive teacher. The tense lines of Mao-sensei’s shoulders and the way her eyes would flicker frequently towards Orochimaru showed how on-edge she was. She didn’t seem scared, really; just nervous and maybe a little excited.

“Do you have any questions?” Mao asked, watching them both with catlike green eyes. Her clan marking were dark splotches across her cheeks, and in the dim lighting they looked almost like wounds. When they had first begun lessons with her, Mayuri had always halfway expected to see teeth clacking together through her cheeks whenever she spoke. 

The girls both obediently chorused, “No, sensei.” Mao nodded and continued with the lessons, her deep voice echoing through the small space. Orochimaru didn’t raise his gaze from the documents he was examining once throughout the entire remaining hour of both girls struggling to identify certain kanji and remember their meanings. 

When the class was over, though, he stood and gestured for them to wait. Both of the girls froze, staring up at him uncertainly, not certain if they should be scared or not. Mao stepped aside as Orochimaru moved forward, more silent and graceful than any predator could possibly hope to be. Mayuri swallowed nervously as he came to tower over them, staring down with golden eyes that seemed to reflect the light as he considered them. She wondered what he was thinking.

“You are progressing very well in your studies,” he told them after what had to be at least a thousand years of heavy silence. Mayuri felt the tension drain from her immediately, and from the corner of her eye she caught Hiroko’s shoulders relaxing as well. They turned to beam at one another, then turned their attention back to Orochimaru. Behind him, Mao was smiling broadly, practically preening that the indirect praise from the Otokage. 

Orochimaru placed a gentle hand on top of both of their heads. He did not ruffle their hair, but the weight and the small smile on his face made Mayuri glow with pride and affection. She could feel the tinge of self-loathing and the hint of guilt that curled within her chest as she smiled back at him, though. She could see that that smile never truly reached his eyes, but for this brief show of affection...well, it was easy to pretend that things might be okay, if only for a moment.

.

It was by pure coincidence that they were in the cafeteria when a large squad came back from a mission. The sudden flood of people brought with them the thunderous sound of many voices, talking and laughing and shouting. It was the first time in months they were faced with so much noise, and with so many people. The cafeteria usually only had a handful of people in it by the time the girls made their way to it. 

Mayuri felt Hiroko freeze beside her, food halfway to her mouth. Mayuri hunched her shoulders and focused only on her food, but beneath the table, she nudged her sister’s knee with her own and left it there. It was a comfort to have that point of contact. Hiroko didn’t move, her eyes wide as she stared down at the table with unseeing eyes.

It was unnerving to have so many strangers so close. They were bigger and stronger, and it was impossible to know just how dangerous they were and whether they would want to hurt someone who couldn’t defend themselves. Mayuri was of the opinion that she and her sister had done more than enough hurting to last them through several lifetimes.

Mayuri nudged Hiroko’s knee again, and pointedly took another bite of her own food. It felt heavy in her stomach, making her feel nauseous. She ignored it and took another bite, struggling to swallow it. After a hesitation, Hiroko followed suit, though her hand was shaking slightly. They stayed quiet and did their best not to draw any attention to themselves. From the corner of her eye, though, Mayuri watched the group as they dragged chairs and tables together and sat down.

Most of them still had their mission uniforms on, masks and all. The dull grey of their tunics and the black of their pants almost fading into the shadows around them, though the metal on their foreheads reflected the light. It was easy to see why that particular color scheme had been chosen for their uniforms, but the shiny metal seemed counterproductive, and she didn’t think she would ever understand the ugly cowprint camouflage. She noted that only two of them wore the stupid rope belt.

“Did you see me tear out that kid’s entrails?” she heard someone say, laughing as they pulled off their mask to reveal a mess of green spikes. “That was the most disgusting shit I’ve ever seen.”

“Watch your language!” a man with long brown hair snapped, smacking the green haired one across the back and causing them to choke on their drink. “There are kids present.”

Hiroko stiffened and Mayuri sunk further into her seat, but she had to hide a smile at the exchange. So talking about tearing out entrails was alright, but cursing wasn’t? Shinobi were a strange group, indeed. Almost too late, it occurred to her that this group was apparently not at all bothered by the idea of killing kids in awful ways. 

Her smile faded immediately, and the second she was finished eating, she let Hiroko drag her from the cafeteria and back to the relative safety of their room.

.

She had grown up in a world of light and technology, one where true darkness hadn’t actually existed. Even on cloudy or moonless nights, there were still street lights that illuminated the world outside her bedroom window. There was the faint glow that shone into her room from the bathroom light being kept on so that children could safely stumble their way to it if they were to wake up in the dead of night. 

When she was young, even on nights where she was scared of the darkness that crept into her world, afraid of the monsters that might lurk beneath her bed or mere inches from her face, there was always the comfort of the lightswitch only feet away and her parents just downstairs. She knew that if she were to cry for them loud enough, they would come running.

There was no such comfort here.

She had wondered why it was that Hiroko would be on her best behavior whenever punishments were threatened. Her sister had been loud and angry when they had first awoken here and she wasn’t afraid to scream and cry and threaten when she was upset. She still wasn’t afraid to do so, really, but it was more tempered now. She would be wary around Orochimaru and Kabuto, and even when she lost her temper or backtalked, it was cautious in a way that Mayuri had never seen her before. 

After she had thrown her ink pot at Orochimaru in a fit of rage, ink splattering his face and pale blue kimono, he had smiled. It was angry and dangerous, and both of the sisters had stilled immediately, stomachs sinking as they realized just how badly Hiroko had fucked up. She had been pulled away, had disappeared for hours and no one would tell Mayuri where she had been taken no matter how much she begged. 

When she returned, pale and shaken, she refused to say a single thing about what had happened to her no matter how much Mayuri asked. There was not a single new scratch on her, but her eyes were distant. After a few days, Mayuri had just stopped asking.

Standing in that awful darkness, she finally understood her sister’s haunted expression. It was impossible to see her own hand right in front of her face, and she flinched when she felt her chilly fingertips brush her own nose. This darkness was different than anything else she had ever knows, and it would grow to be the punishment she learned to fear the most.

It piqued every one of her paranoid senses, until she was certain that there was someone in the room with her. Every one of her wheezing breaths, every stone she accidentally kicked as she began to feel her way to the wall or slight sound she made echoed back to her until she was certain that there was some creature just out of her reach, watching her. The hairs that prickled along the back of her neck and the goosebumps raised across her flesh seemed to make the paranoia all the more believable.

She found the wall by meeting it face first in what was not quite a run, but instead an awkward, panicked shuffle. She put her back to it immediately, hands stretched out on either side of her and one leg kicking desperately at the air in front of her. She was sure, if anyone could see her, she would look absolutely ridiculous. As it was, though, she was too scared of the possibility of something lurking in the nothingness that surrounded her to be worried about what she might look like.

By the time she lost her balance and went crashing down to the ground, Mayuri was mostly sure that she wasn’t about to be grabbed and killed by some unseen monstrosity. Still, she pulled her legs close to her chest and curled over them, tucking her hands firmly over the back of her neck as she did so, just in case something wanted to rip the flesh from her calves or try to take off her head. She rocked back and forth, just the slightest bit of movement, but it still helped to comfort her, even if it was only a little bit. (She did her best not to think of the way her mama’s eyes had stared at her, after her head had been removed from her shoulders.) 

For a while, she listened to her own heartbeat, felt it as it pulsed in her throat and reminded herself that she was still alive and that she really existed. She focused on the feeling of rough stone at her back and underneath her bare feet and reminded herself that if there really was nothingness all around her, then she wouldn’t have been able to feel such things. It made her feel a tiny bit better, though it didn’t stop that creeping feeling of being watched, of being _hunted_. Even that first week, left alone in darkness, was not nearly as bad as the time spent in this awful emptiness.

She wasn’t sure how long she had been in there by the time she couldn’t bear the silence any longer. She only knew that her stomach was twisting with hunger and that there was a worrying pressure on her bladder. The only sounds were her heartbeat and the echo of each of her shaky breaths. If she focused enough, she could almost feel her blood and something _other_ – but by this point, familiar – thrumming beneath her skin. She did the only thing she could to take her mind off her discomfort; she sang.

It wasn’t a pretty sound, really, and the song itself was more of a Frankenstein-like monstrosity of every fragment of song she could recall from her life Before, but it was comforting all the same. She rocked, singing into her knees, and the sound echoed back to her, amplified as it bounced off the stone walls. In that moment, she wished she had synthesia, just to see the way her voice filled the nothingness all around her.

By the time she was let out of that awful nothingness, wincing in the light, her throat was raw and she had almost forgotten what she had been thrown in there for in the first place. She stared up (and up and up and _holy shit would she ever get used to being this tiny?_ ) at Orochimaru, her hands twisting in the fabric of her tunic. He didn’t look angry, but it was frustratingly difficult to figure him out most of the time.

“Have you learned your lesson, my dear?” he asked.

“Yes, Otokage-sama.” Her voice was barely a whisper. He smiled and she couldn’t meet his eye.

“Will you obey your orders in the future?” 

“Yes, Otokage-sama.” 

He laid a hand upon her head, warm and comforting after so much nothing, and she didn’t flinch away. When she finally met his eyes, she couldn’t help but think that his expression looked softer than usual. She answered his smile with one of her own, shy and uncertain. She remembered her mother and blood beneath her bare feet. She remembered fear and the pain of bones piercing her skin and the horror of not knowing if Hiroko was alive or dead.

When Orochimaru reached to take her hand, she let him. She smiled at him, and she let her mouth run with childish chatter, and she didn’t let on that she refused to believe that he was as good as everyone said he was. When she was led back to their room, she locked eyes with Hiroko and took in the worry in her sister’s expression, the sweat on her brow, and the smell of panic that filled the room. She silently promised herself, yet again, that they would find some way out of here.

.

“—and next thing we knew, she was falling right into the fountain, sacred scrolls in hand!” Kaito finished, arms thrown wide and eyes bright. Hiroko and Mayuri howled with laughter and the old man watched them with a wistful smile. It was good to see them so cheerful, especially since Hiroko’s seal had been giving them so much trouble during their session. He had become so used to the child’s cries of pain, it was almost a shock to hear her laughter instead. It was a good sound.

“Did she get into trouble?” Hiroko asked as soon as she had the breath to do so. Beside her, Mayuri was still trying to stop her giggles, one hand pressed to her chest. Kaito snorted.

“Of course she did, but nothing more than a slap on the wrist. Everyone knew it was an accident. She actually left on a mission the next week, and ended up meeting a woman and moving in with her a few weeks after the mission was over. For years, though, parents and the elders told children that she had been smited for damaging the scrolls and that was why they never saw her again.” 

“Is she still alive?” Mayuri asked, head cocked to the side, suddenly very interested. Kaito shook his head.

“No, after the fall of Uzushiogakure, her clan was hunted down until there were no more.”

“Oh.” Hiroko’s voice was barely more than a breath, soft and pained. “I’m sorry.”

Kaito’s brow furrowed, his heavy eyebrows almost hiding his eyes as he frowned. There was something almost guilty on the little girl’s face, her shoulders coming up around her ears and her eyes directed towards the floor. Mayuri had moved closer, pressing their sides together. She stared up at him, her expression unreadable, like she was waiting for something and wasn’t sure if it would be good or bad. 

“Do people from clans get hunted down a lot?” she asked.

Kaito sighed, finally understanding. He held out his arms. “Come here, girls.” 

They stood and shuffled forwards obediently, and he scooped them up and settled them on his knees. The weight was familiar, and his heart ached as he remembered holding his own grandchildren like this. They both stared up at him with wide, sad eyes, and he marveled at how children so young could be so very somber.

“We’ve heard...rumors,” Mayuri said, her voice so soft he almost couldn’t hear it.

“People keep saying that certain clans in Water Country are disappearing,” Hiroko continued, twirling her long hair nervously around her fingers, tangling it. He frowned, and knew he would have to speak with the Otokage about making sure that people knew to keep their mouths shut around children who already had enough on their plates to worry about.

He sighed and pulled them both a little closer, wishing he could somehow shelter them from the harsh truths of the world. But they were being groomed to become shinobi, and they would never have the luxury of an easy life. They had already had such a hard time, but he knew that they deserved the truth, no matter how young they were.

“Kirigakure is a village that fears power just as much as it covets it,” he told them. They both watched him with those oddly intent gazes, too sharp and too intelligent for children so young. “If there is a clan or a person with abilities that Kiri cannot possess and control, they will do what they can to destroy them.”

“So...like the Yuki and Kaguya clans?” 

“And others, as well. Clans that have existed since before Kirigakure or organized shinobi forces even existed have been sought out and destroyed for their abilities across every part of the land. It is human nature to fear what one cannot understand, and to covet what one cannot possess.”

The girls were quiet as they considered his words. They locked eyes, and he watched as they shared a silent conversation comprised of nothing but expressions and barely noticeable gestures. They were going to either be a godsend on missions some day, or their squad leaders and teammates were going to hate them for their wordless communication. He was reminded, again, of his own family and the ways they had known one another better than anyone else and how it sometimes felt like they could read each other’s minds.

“Are either of our clans still around?” Mayuri asked at length, startling him from his thoughts. She looked uncertain, the words hollow in her throat, like she wasn’t certain if she was allowed to ask, or maybe she didn’t know if she was even allowed to classify either of the clans as “hers.”

He smiled at both of the sisters, soft and encouraging, but still a little sad as he said, “The Kaguya clan is still around, mostly because the kekkei genkei you possess is so rare that there is very little fear or even knowledge of it outside the clan. They are an ancient clan who have been around since before Kirigakure was formed, and because they will fight with Kirigakure if they are called upon, there is little reason for the village to go after them.”

He didn’t mention the whispers he had heard of the tension that was building within Water Country, and the unrest within the clans.

“The Yukis...well, their compound was destroyed and the clan members scattered to the wind. It’s very likely that there are many who are still alive, and that they are just in hiding.” 

Again, he decided against mentioning the fact that hunter-nin were roaming the land, following rumors and leads in order to wipe the clan from existence. The same thing had happened to his own people, many years before. These children did not need that added burden on their shoulders. 

“You’re very lucky that Otokage-sama took you in,” he told them. “Otogakure is one of the few places I know of that will shelter people with kekkei genkei or with dark pasts.”

“Yes,” Mayuri murmured, her expression distant. “Very lucky, indeed.”


	17. Open Season

The year they turned five was when their training began to become more strenuous. Their carefully kept schedule was changed, and their world began to widen just a little bit more. 

The sisters attended lessons with the older children of the village, most of whom were the children of Otogakure’s shinobi force. There, they began to learn the basics of different martial arts from across the land and had lessons on survival, first aid, and weapons, in addition to their literature and writing classes. It was a strange mesh of so many subjects, each one taught with an emphasis on how these skills they were learning would make them better shinobi and would one day help to make their village stronger. It was very organized, somehow managing to feel like a very formal school experience despite the jingling of bells and the fact it was being held in an underground cavern. 

Though it was nice to be around other people, neither of the girls had much luck making friends. Most of the children that attended the class were a few years older than them and had no interest in interacting with the – admittedly creepy – babies of the group outside of spars. Even then, it was sometimes a struggle. After all, there was probably something rather unnerving about small children who acted as mature as the twins did.

“I don’t understand why no one ever chooses us when we’re allowed to pick our own partners,” Hiroko said, frowning as she used the wall to help her stretch her leg above her head again. Around them, the others were similarly preparing themselves for their spars or choosing partners by shouting across the echoing cavern. Mayuri shrugged as she rolled her shoulders, trying to rid herself of the ache in her muscles. 

“Maybe they just assume we want to partner up with each other?” she suggested, though she didn’t sound too convinced. She didn’t really see why it mattered. “I mean, the Fujiwara brothers always choose to spar against each other.”

Hiroko shrugged, but otherwise didn’t respond. Mayuri rolled her shoulders again, feeling the bones scrape against one another. She frowned.

“Hey, Hiro, can you do something for me? Put your ear against my shoulder and just listen when I move it.”

Her sister complied, leaning into a graceful backbend, one leg still braced against the wall, high in the air. Her long hair tumbled around her flushed face, loose and tangled. Mayuri moved so that she was sitting close enough for Hiroko to be able to listen without changing her position any further. She repeated the motion a few times, feeling the strange grinding as her bones moved and rubbed against one another in ways she was fairly certain they shouldn’t.

“That sounds disgusting,” Hiroko announced cheerfully, her cheek squished against Mayuri’s shoulderblades. “You should probably have someone check that out.”

Mayuri hummed, rolled her shoulders again just because, and snickered as Hiroko pulled back with a look of delighted disgust. Hiroko shoved her lightly and she rocked back and let herself fall, arms spread wide and a rock digging into her back. She stared at the shadowed ceiling, grinning.

“Thank you, doctor. I’ll be sure to pass your professional opinion on to the next medic I see.” 

Hiroko huffed out a laugh and righted herself, switching legs as she did. She pulled her hair over her shoulder, combing her fingers through it as she turned to look at Mayuri again. They locked eyes and grinned.

“Well, I was going to school for veter–”

Hiroko cut herself off suddenly, mouth snapping shut with an audible click of teeth. Judging by the look on her face, Mayuri already knew who she had just approached. There was only one person who put such a gentle expression upon her sister’s face. 

Still, she followed her sister’s gaze, head tilting at an uncomfortable angle. She found herself staring at the upside down form of one of their classmates.

“Did you do something to your arm?” Dosu asked, leaning forwards slightly. 

His dark eyes were shadowed and the bandages around his face were beginning to unravel. The strangely textured red and white scar tissue could be seen beneath it. He cocked his head, his arms dangling loosely in front of him. If she was being honest, Mayuri couldn’t help but think that he looked really creepy as he loomed over her. 

She stood so they were closer to the same level, spinning on her heel to face him. Hiroko came to stand by her side, a gentle smile on her face. Mayuri did her best to match her sister’s expression. 

“I’m fine,” she said, waving one hand. “Just noticed something funny with my shoulder, but it’s no big deal.”

Dosu’s head tilted further, the bandages shifting and unraveling more as his brow creased. He slowly stood up straighter, drawing himself to his full height. It wasn’t much taller than the girls, but Mayuri was still acutely aware that he had enough bulk and additional experience on them to hurt them, if he really wanted to. She spread her legs slightly to give herself a firmer footing and crossed her arms over her chest, meeting his gaze evenly. 

The boy looked a little uncertain, blinking at her with dark eyes. She felt Hiroko’s elbow digging into her side, but refused to look away until Dosu did. After a long second, he broke eye contact, lowering his gaze to the floor and bringing up a hand to rub uncertainly at the back of his neck.

“I just, uh, wanted to know if either of you wanted to be my partner?” 

His rough voice was so soft and garbled, Mayuri wondered for a second if she had misheard him. It wasn’t like they never spoke – at this point, she might even tentatively consider him as close to a friend as they could find, given their situation – but this was the first time he had suggested they train together. He was talented, and usually paired with someone who was closer to his skill level and age.

She and Hiroko shared a look, raised eyebrows and the minute narrowing or widening of eyes conveying an entire conversation in a matter of seconds. Hiroko made a face, the expression stuck somewhere between wide-eyed pleading and a threat contained in the twist of her lips. Mayuri huffed, but stepped forward to address the boy before them, who was looking more and more embarrassed as the seconds ticked by. 

“We’ll both be your partners.”

She could admit that the surprised widening of eyes, immediately followed by a grin so big it showed from beneath the bandages, was horribly endearing. From her position a few steps behind her, Hiroko spoke up. Her voice was firm.

“As soon as class is over, though, you need to get washed up and change your bandages. If you leave ‘em dirty you’ll end up making yourself sick. If your mom’s out on another mission, we’ll help you.”

He made a choked noise, eyes widening again. The bandages stretched again as he opened his mouth to protest, but something on Hiroko’s face must have warned him that any argument would be useless. He shut his mouth.

Crossing his arms, head drooping in what could either be defeat or the beginnings of a truly impressive sulk, he grumbled out a begrudging, “Fine.”

Mayuri heard her sister huff out a soft laugh, and she couldn’t help but smile as the three of them found a place to train. She hadn’t quite figured out the dynamics of her sister’s relationship with him, but it was still so nice to see her getting along with Dosu, seeing her _happy._ Even so, she was still wary around him. 

Dosu was really the only other child who would give either of them the time of day. Mayuri couldn’t help but think that maybe he only paid attention to them because he himself didn’t have many friends. Despite living in a shinobi village, most of the children weren’t very accepting of anyone who was _too_ different.

Dosu, with his bandages and scarring, was a perfect example of that. He seemed smart and strong, more so than most of the other students. That didn’t help his case at all, though. If anything, it might have made the other children resent him even more.

She took a step back, letting Dosu and Hiroko move to face each other. Hiroko cast her a quick look, a question and a warning rolled up in one. Mayuri rolled her eyes, but turned her attention to Dosu, grinning cheerfully.

“I get to fight the winner, alright?”

With the way his eyes scrunched up, she was fairly certain he was smiling back. He nodded before turning his full attention back to Hiroko. As Mayuri watched, they both got into ready stances.

There was a tiny flare of worry, a protective instinct that was confident that if anyone other than herself sparred with Hiroko, her baby sister would end up hurt. She knew that that was ridiculous, because though her sister hadn’t taken any martial arts Before, she still had the quick mind of an adult, and truly impressive speed and flexibility to accompany a nasty left hook.

Well, her abilities were impressive for a child. She wouldn’t have a chance against an adult, not with how tiny and inexperienced she was. Against Dosu, Mayuri already knew that she wouldn’t be giving it her all. Would he take advantage of that fact? 

With a quick shake of her head, Mayuri pushed the thoughts away. Hiroko could take care of herself, and though she didn’t really trust Dosu, she was pretty sure that he wasn’t going to attempt to kill his classmates in the middle of class. Even if he did, she was there to at least get his attention away from her sister long enough for someone stronger to step in and stop him, if she couldn’t. 

It wasn’t that she didn’t _like_ Dosu. He had never done anything other than be nice to them both, wide-eyes and sincere in every one of his eager interactions. It was just that she didn’t trust anyone in this world to have their best interests at heart, and she didn’t want to get tangled up with anyone who could cause problems or hurt them in any way later on.

The first time he approached them after a class, Mayuri had wanted to brush him off right away. She figured that they didn’t need to get wrapped up in anyone else’s business, and after a year of only talking with a handful of other people, she didn’t see why they would need to open up their world any more than that. It seemed like it was only asking for more trouble and pain. 

After all, they had already caught Orochimaru and Kabuto’s interest. They were the two most powerful people in Otogakure and would play huge roles in the future of this world. It was dangerous enough to have their attention on them, so why would they want to open themselves up to anyone else? 

Hiroko, surprisingly enough, had been the one to greet him and ask if he wanted to eat dinner with them. She had been confident when she spoke to him, the anxiety and fear that Mayuri was so used to seeing gone so suddenly. She had smiled, soft and sweet, and that had been enough to silence any protests that Mayuri might have had.

So she had sat quietly back during the meal, watching her sister talk easily with Dosu, and only contributed to the conversation when she was asked something directly. It was nice to see Hiroko relaxing, smiling, letting conversation flow as easily as it would have in another world entirely. Her sister had always made friends so easily despite her anxiety, and had always loved so freely. Mayuri had been worried that a year without a social circle would have set Hiroko back too far to ever recover from. She was glad to see that that wasn’t so. 

Despite that, though, she had still been wary of becoming too friendly with Dosu. Underneath the soft smile that had found its way onto her features, her mind was spinning as she watched them interact.

She had studied his bandages, the way he slumped and the sleeves that draped past his fingers. There was something familiar about him, stirring the same half-remembered dream feeling in her mind she had felt those first few times she had looked at Orochimaru and Kabuto. She wasn’t sure if that meant he was a canon character, or if he just reminded her of one. She wasn’t sure if it was smarter to end this relationship before it started or to cultivate it and hope that he wasn’t someone who died horribly and would drag them down with him. 

Like so many times before, she had found herself really, _really_ wishing that she had paid more attention to the anime when she had had the chance. 

In the present, Mayuri winced as she watched Dosu flip Hiroko over his shoulder with a truly frightening amount of ease. Her sister landed flat on her back with a painful sounding _whump._

“Ouch. You alright, Hiro?” she called, the cheery tone of her voice not quite matching the way her hands curled into fists at her side. 

Hiroko groaned, but gave a shaky thumbs-up from her spot splayed out on the ground. The spar had barely lasted a full minute, but Mayuri was quite certain that her sister would be feeling it for days. Dosu was ruthless and, despite his wounded appearance, dangerously strong.

“I guess that means it’s my turn,” she sighed, bouncing lightly on the balls of her feet as she waited for Hiroko to gather herself enough to move out of the way. She wondered if Hiroko was regretting holding back, and whether she should give it her all or not during their spar. 

He was just a kid, but he still scared her. Everyone did, really. There was a constant ugly fear, a creeping _“will you hurt me, too?”_ that seemed to linger in the back of her mind every moment of this new life. That fear practically demanded that she not give Dosu a single opening to harm her, even if he was a child, even if this was just training. 

Dosu nodded and readied himself again. His movements were graceful, which was a little strange, considering how stiffly he moved on a regular basis. Maybe the pained winces she had noticed he made sometimes were an act, but she somehow doubted it. She noted with a pout that he wasn’t so much as breathing hard. Adrenaline, maybe? 

“You ready?” he asked, hands held loosely and his expression unreadable behind the mussed bandages. 

Mayuri barely had time to nod before he was upon her, long arms reaching, eyes intense. She yelped and scrambled back a few steps, ducking his hands. She whirled to get behind him, reaching to grab a handful of his shirt and yank him down just a few inches, just enough to reach him more easily. If she could get him in a headlock, then maybe—

Before she could even finish the thought, Dosu was spinning to face her, leg sweeping to knock her feet out from under her. She fell backwards, just barely managing to catch herself with her hands before the rest of her hit the ground, and kicked out at him. Silently, she thanked Juro-sensei for drilling them so much in their flexibility lessons, because she would not have been able to get her leg high enough to actually reach him otherwise.

She saw his eyes narrow, the bandages around his mouth unravelling a little further as he frowned, revealing more of his damaged skin. His lips were mostly gone, nothing but a stretch of scarred skin, pulled back in a few places to reveal his teeth. If not for the adrenaline pumping through her veins, the sight might have been enough to give her pause. 

As it was, she didn’t stop to stare. Instead, she jumped up, head lowered slightly as she charged him. He caught her easily, but she heard the way he choked as she impacted with his torso, knocking the air from his lungs. She spun, her back pressed almost against his chest as she prepared to put some space between them again. Before she could move, though, he snaked an arm around her neck, faster than she had thought him possible of. With a hissed curse, she turned her head and tucked her chin to her chest to make sure he couldn’t fully cut off her air supply. 

She wriggled, twisting her torso so she was halfway behind him, just enough to be able to reach up and around to sling an arm over his shoulder. Her fingers just barely found purchase at his throat and she dug her fingertips into vulnerable flesh. Even in the midst of their little spar, she was mindful not to hurt him with her nails. His arm tightened, and she coughed. 

Even with her head trapped just above his waist and the awkward position of her body, she knew she could kick the backs his knees from this angle. It would be enough to unbalance him, at the very least. If she was lucky, it would be enough to force him to loosen his grip on her neck. 

She dug her fingers harder into his neck and grabbed his wrist with her free hand. She made sure one foot was planted firmly, then kicked out with the other, aiming for the backs of his knees. 

It was Dosu’s turn to yelp as he went crashing to the ground. Unfortunately for her, though, his grip didn’t loosen for even a second. The air whooshed out of her lungs with an ugly sound as his full weight landed directly on top of her. 

Before she could catch her breath, he had risen only to twist and immediately settle his full weight upon her again. He straddled her, legs on either side of her thighs and most of his weight resting on her torso. His forearm was pressed to her throat and his face hovered just inches above her nose. 

She met his eye as he grinned down at her, triumph shining in his dark eyes. She coughed and snarled, straining against his weight on her chest. She snapped her teeth, mere inches from the exposed flesh of his throat, and some buried part of her wondered how hard it would be to tear out his jugular with her teeth alone. 

She ignored the distant thought, struggling to focus on the techniques they had been taught instead of blind instinct. It was in that moment that she realized _she hadn’t kept her chin tucked._ All he needed to do was change angles slightly, press his arm down harder, and—

Her spinning thoughts were stopped as she heard a lazy voice call out, “Foul!” 

Dosu froze, the pressure on her neck lessening. Together, they turned their heads to face Hiroko, who was frowning as she rubbed at the back of her own head. She probably had a pretty nasty bump from when it had impacted with the hard cave floor during her own spar with him. 

“What do you mean?” Dosu asked, head tilting to the side. Mayuri was a little relieved to find that he didn’t sound upset, simply curious.

“I mean that today’s sparring was supposed to be focused mainly on Tanuma-sensei’s Wind Country fighting style. You two seem to be using the grappling from Earth Country that Kenji-sensei was showing us last week.” 

Dosu blinked a few times, head tilting. From her angle beneath him, Mayuri could just barely see the way his twisted lips turned down into a slight frown and how his throat moved as he swallowed. She wondered what he was thinking. 

“Huh. I guess you’re right.” 

And with that, he stood, yanking Mayuri up with him and relieving the literal and metaphorical pressure that had been building in her chest as he did so. She looked between him and Hiroko, her brow furrowed.

“So...who won? Was it Dosu?” 

“I think that it was definitely his win, considering he had you pinned. Besides that, he was the only one who even attempted to use the right style,” Hiroko said, cheerfully. 

Dosu shrugged, but he was grinning. There was an eager light in Hiroko’s mismatched eyes as she watched him. She stretched her arms over her head and wet her lips. When she spoke, her lisping little voice had the slightest hint of bite to it.

“I guess that means that it’s time for our rematch!” Hiroko grinned and strode forward, not waiting for Mayuri to get out of the way. “I’m not going to go easy on you this time.”

“Easy on me?” Dosu snorted. “You’re kidding, right?”

Hiroko’s grin turned devilish. Mayuri rolled her eyes, but scrambled what she deemed a safe distance out of the way. She settled herself cross-legged on the ground, watching the two as they eyed each other. She was curious what her sister was planning, now that she had apparently decided not to hold back. 

Now that the adrenaline was beginning to fade from her system, Mayuri could feel each stinging scrape and muscle ache. Her throat hurt from being squeezed and her head was pounding. Somehow, though, those aches and pains seemed more distant than usual, almost muted. She rolled her shoulders and listened to the muffled scrape of her bone, and watched as Hiroko readied herself to face Dosu again with a smile on her face.

“Ready?” Mayuri called. They both nodded. She took a deep breath and said, “Begin!”

Dosu was stronger than them both, and he was faster than Mayuri could probably ever hope to be. It made him a dangerous opponent, and she knew that he would one day use his strength and his speed to become a deadly opponent on any battlefield. He would probably surpass both of the sisters as they all grew older. Now, though? 

They both leaped into action, but compared to Hiroko, he might as well have not be moving at all.

There was no awkward grappling or hesitation as she kicked out at him, leg coming straight up to land a solid strike beneath his chin. Before he could so much as stumble backwards, before her foot could touch solid ground even, she was twisting to kick out at him again. Then an open-palmed strike to his left shoulder, and a fist just barely impacting with his sternum as he jolted back. 

Hiroko’s strikes weren’t particularly powerful, but the sheer number of hits she could land were debilitating. Combined with the basic medical knowledge of vital points and her uncanny ability to hit wherever she was aiming, she was a formidable opponent. Mayuri was infinitely glad that her sister very rarely was angry enough to actually want to hurt her, in their spars or their daily lives; she was well aware that Hiroko could take her down, easily. 

Mayuri watched with a vindictive sort of enjoyment as the smug expression that had been apparent on Dosu’s features despite the bandages melted into one of shock. By the time he managed to put enough space between them to avoid her strikes, Hiroko was out of breath and Mayuri had lost count of how many hits she had landed. 

Dosu’s dark eyes were wide as he watched Hiroko, brimming with sudden uncertainty and maybe a hint of newfound respect. He looked to be swaying on his feet, and his bandages were almost entirely useless, dripping off his frame like a poorly-wrapped monster-movie mummy.

“Do you yield?” Hiroko gasped out, sweat collecting on her brow. Dosu was panting as well, though his revealed skin appeared to be mostly free of any telltale gleam of sweat. Mayuri thought that it was likely a side effect of being covered in scar tissue. 

Dosu met Hiroko’s eyes, frowning. The skin around his mouth seemed to move strangely, and Mayuri leaned forward slightly, squinting. He was hesitating.

“It’s smart to surrender sometimes, if it will let you live to fight another day!” Mayuri called helpfully, still grinning. Even from this distance, it was easy to tell that Hiroko was rolling her eyes just by the dramatic flip of her hair. 

“Thank you for the wise advice. I’m sure he appreciates it,” she called back, sarcasm dripping from her tone.

“I live to please.”

Dosu was looking between the sisters, bewilderment slowly turning to amusement. He shook his head and huffed out a soft, rough sound that Mayuri was pretty sure was a laugh. Hiroko turned her attention back to him, bringing her hands back up in case he decided to continue with the spar. He just shook his head again.

“I yield. Class is over, anyways.”

“Well, in that case, I guess now’s a good time to get you all cleaned up, right?” Hiroko’s voice was sweet as honey, but her expression brokered no room for argument of any kind. 

Mayuri climbed to her feet, brushing the dust from her butt and ignoring Dosu’s grimace as she went to stand at her sister’s side. They smiled at him, the same expression stretched across two separate faces. Dosu sighed, but there was a hint of a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.

“I’ll meet you in the public infirmary in 20 minutes?” he asked, shoulders slumping. 

“Yep! That sounds good to me. After that we can grab some dinner,” Hiroko said, the menacing air gone as soon as it became apparent that she was going to be getting her way.

Dosu nodded, and turned to go. Before he got too far, though, he hesitated. He spun again to face them, and the few patches of undamaged skin on his face were tinged pink.

“You both fought really good,” he announced, the words almost unintelligible in his rush to get them out. “Thanks for letting me be your partner!”

And with that, he raced from the room without waiting for a response. Mayuri and Hiroko shared a glance, then Mayuri burst into laughter. Hiroko sighed and made to follow Dosu’s example, heading to their shared room to bathe before they had to meet him again.

“I think he’s got a crush!” Mayuri yelled after her, barely able to get the words out as she gasped for breath. 

Hiroko froze, and Mayuri began to laugh even harder as she watched the back of her sister’s neck turn bright red. 

“Don’t be so dumb!” she yelled back, not turning to face Mayuri. “For that, I’m gonna make sure the water for your shower is _cold_.” 

Mayuri’s laughter stopped immediately, replaced by a shriek of horror as Hiroko sprinted from the room. Mayuri race after her, already knowing that it was a lost cause; she would never be able to beat Hiroko in a race.

.

After that day, something seemed to shift, and the three of them ended up spending most of their time together. 

Dosu helped them with their academic tasks, teaching them more advanced words and how to read the kanji they struggled with. In return they helped him with his flexibility exercises, mostly by standing on his legs or back and laughing good naturedly when his face scrunched up in pain. He got the food that they were too short to reach in the cafeteria and in return, they sat with him during their mealtimes. They helped him to rewrap his bandages when they got stained with blood or dirt or what little sweat his damaged skin could produce. All three of the children quickly got over any embarrassment over their bodies they might have once had around one another. He was the one to show them around the base, once they were cleared to have free reign to wander and explore their “home.” 

Mayuri thought that he must have been lonely. From what she had gathered, his mother was one of Otogakure’s top kunoichis and was often gone on missions. He was left alone a lot, and though the citizens of Otogakure all seemed to have a “we look after our own” mentality and made sure that his physical needs were taken care of, most of them were too busy to give him the emotional support that children his age needed. 

With the other children mostly avoiding him, it would make sense that he would latch onto the only ones who treated him with some decency. Though he could be a know-it-all, smug as hell and bossy to boot, he seemed genuinely sweet and both of the girls very quickly found themselves coming to see him as not only a friend, but also a kid that they wanted to protect. 

Mayuri wondered if he thought the same thing about them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again everyone! I know that this chapter was a long time coming, but unfortunately, it might be like that for a little while.
> 
> I've been battling depression and have had a lot of family tragedies happen in a very short period of time. I have recently been living halfway across the country, away from my family, living with and caring for my grandma while my grandpa is in the hospital. On top of that, I've been caring for my baby cousins as well and my whole family is grieving the loss of my uncle. So I'd really appreciate everyone's patience with me because updates will probably just be posted as I get chapters done and there won't be much of a schedule until things settle down. Sorry about that.
> 
> And now, actual chapter notes! I'm not too confident in my action sequences, so if anyone has any critiques or suggestions, I'd love to hear them. There's a bit of foreshadowing in this chapter, so hey, I hope you kept an eye out as you read! This chapter, to me, feels sort of stilted, but I figured I'd put off posting it for long enough and you guys deserve an update. :)
> 
> As always, I love to hear people's thoughts. Thank you so much for reading, and I hope that you enjoyed!


	18. Feelings

_(She holds Avery’s hand clutched tightly in her own. Her sister is too pale, her complexion washed out under the harsh hospital lights and from a lack of sunshine. There are almost-healed bruises and cuts littering what little of her skin is visible. She seems more plaster and gauze than flesh and blood._

_The hand that Elle holds is completely limp, the skin dry and nails broken. The sight makes her sick to her stomach; it is yet another reminder of what has been lost. Avery would never have let her nails become so unkempt. She had taken careful, meticulous care of them ever since she broke herself of the habit of chewing them.  
But that had been before the accident. _

_Elle scowls even as tears sting her eyes, catching on her lashes and blurring her vision. She wants to scream, to throw something and demand that the nurses take better care of her sister. She wants to shake Avery until she wakes up or until the steady beeping of the monitors turn to screaming, instead. She wants to smash the delicate machinery keeping her sister alive, to rip the tubes from her veins, her nose and throat, just to force someone to pay attention. Anything at all, if it would only indicate some change in her sister’s state of being._

_She doesn’t do any of these things._

_Instead, she chokes on a sob and intertwines their fingers, flipping her sister’s hand to hold it more securely. She squeezes until her own fingers ache, until she can see Avery’s skin beginning to change colors under the terrible pressure. Elle sobs again, her voice breaking so badly she can barely get the words out._

_“Can you feel this?” she demands, fingers tingling. “Can you feel anything at all?”_

_Avery doesn’t respond._

_She never will.)_

.

The medical ward was the only place within Otogakure that Hiroko had ever seen flourescent lights. Everywhere else she had explored had been lit with the warm (and sometimes spooky) flicker of torchlight, giving the vast expanse of underground caverns a medieval – even otherworldly – vibe. With the lights, cushioned benches lining the halls outside of the ward, and the beeping and whirring of machinery, this place had a strangely modern feeling despite the familiar stone walls. Hiroko wasn’t accustomed to the feeling anymore; it made her uncomfortable. 

Somehow, sitting beneath the harsh white lights that had once been commonplace in her daily life made Hiroko feel unnerved. It was like two worlds and two lives that had been separated in her mind were slowly converging into one shared experience. She hated the feeling; it felt suspiciously like an omen.

There was something eating away inside her mind and inside her soul, a dark mix of doubt and guilt and the ever-present fear. It seemed to grow and shrink depending on the day, the feelings or lack-thereof she had experienced either dousing or fueling the fire that burned inside her. Most days she could ignore it, but when left to her own devices long enough, she found her thoughts straying and spiraling down dark paths. 

Sitting alone in the well-lit halls of the medical ward, it somehow seemed easier to drown in her own thoughts. 

She had been waiting for almost an hour on the bench in the hall outside the examination rooms, smiling weakly at whoever bothered to glance her way as they passed by, when Mayuri emerged. The medic was close on her heels. Hiroko could see her lips moving as she spoke with Mayuri, but she couldn’t hear what was being said from this distance. She swung her legs idly, waiting for her sister to finish speaking with the ever stone-faced Yumi.

Hiroko’s eyes darted over her sister’s form and she bit her lip, her brow creasing in worry. There were bandages wrapped neatly around Mayuri’s hands and arms, all the way up to her elbows. She knew for a fact that she had not had any injuries worse than a scrape before coming to see the medic, and certainly nothing bad enough to warrant that kind of care.

Which, of course, could only mean that something had happened. The thought stung like betrayal, bitter and heavy on her tongue. Yumi had been doing their exams for over a year; she had thought that they could trust her. The bandages wrapped around Mayuri’s arms seemed to say otherwise.

There was a blinding rage building, a bright light exploding behind her eyelids and making her head hurt. Hiroko scowled, dropping her gaze to her lap before squeezing her eyes shut. She knew she couldn’t do anything, and it _hurt_. No matter what training she did or how far she progressed, she was useless to protect her sister or herself. She was just too small, too helpless, and she _hated it._

What was the point of suffering through training every day, of the conditioning and the lessons and the _pain_ , if people could still do whatever the hell they wanted and she couldn’t do anything to stop them? Hadn’t Mayuri suffered enough already? Hadn’t they both been through enough? Why was it that her sister was worse off _after_ seeing the person who was supposed to make sure she was okay? What had they ever done in _any_ life to deserve to hurt so much, now?

She was so angry, and so scared. She didn’t know what to do anymore. She was afraid of change, yet desperate to make things better somehow. But how? How could they do anything like they were? What if it just ended in more pain? What if—

“You ready to head out?” 

Hiroko jolted, blinking at her sister in surprise and wondering when she had moved to stand so close. Her thoughts began to slowly calm themselves as she took in the smile on Mayuri’s face. She didn’t _look_ traumatised, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything. She was worryingly good at hiding what she was feeling, sometimes. 

“What did Yumi-san say?” Hiroko asked, rising from the bench. She straightened the almost-skirt of her tunic, frowning at the way the bulky hem of the rough material had dug into her thighs from how long she had been sitting, and added thoughtfully, “I think we should see if we can pick our own clothes, next growth spurt.”

Mayuri huffed out a laugh, and Hiroko grinned. They fell into step together, a synchronicity in their movements that had been present Before but had somehow become more refined in this world and these bodies. Two sets of footsteps sounded like one, as they passed through empty passageways. 

Mayuri didn’t speak as they made their way towards the cafeteria, where Dosu had said he would be waiting for them. Hiroko didn’t push; she could practically see Mayuri’s thoughts spinning through her mind. She would talk when she had sorted them out.

“I think we should just be grateful that nobody’s enforced the weird butt-bow thing yet,” Mayuri hummed at last, breaking the silence. Hiroko snorted.

“If they ever try, I’m leaving.”

“Do you think they could count us as missing-nin, since Otogakure itself is comprised almost entirely of them, anyways?”

“Is this place even a village, really? I mean, they can’t say we abandoned the village if there’s no village to officially abandon,” Hiroko pointed out, a little too cheerful. Her chest felt tight.

Mayuri giggled, and it echoed back to them, turning eerie and distorted as it bounced off the stone walls. Grinning, Hiroko reached to grab her sister’s hand, linking them together. The rough gauze beneath her palms reminded her of her earlier worries, and the smile disappeared immediately.

“Hey, you ready to tell me what Yumi said?” she asked, her voice barely louder than a whisper.

“I guess,” Mayuri sighed. She squeezed Hiroko’s hand, a barely-there pressure lighter than the brush of a butterfly’s wing. Then she murmured, “Yumi thinks my body is changing.”

“What? Like...early puberty?” 

Mayuri froze, so suddenly that Hiroko nearly stumbled over her own feet. Her hand was still captured in her sister’s grip. She glanced back at her, mouth already opened to demand what had happened. At the look on Mayuri’s face, the words died on her lips. 

“What’s wrong?” she demanded, panic rising in her chest. Mayuri groaned and covered her eyes with her free hand.

“ _Puberty_ , Hiroko. We’re going to have to go through a second puberty. I barely survived the first one.”

Hiroko gave her sister a thoroughly unimpressed look and tugged her hand free of Mayuri’s feather-light grip to cross her arms over her chest. 

“ _Really?_ That’s what’s worrying you?”

Still, a smile tugged at the corner of her lips as amusement and annoyance warred in her chest, replacing the sinking sensation of panic with their buoyancy. Mayuri groaned louder, as though the sound could drown out Hiroko’s playful disdain if she just made it loud and ugly enough.

The amusement won out.

“Sorry I said anything,” Hiroko said, laughter in her voice.

“What did we ever do to deserve to go through puberty again?” Mayuri demanded, dropping her hand to stare into Hiroko’s eyes. Her gaze was intense, but there was a playful tilt to her lips and a light in her eyes. 

“I’m not sure,” Hiroko admitted, playing along. She tapped her chin, feigning thoughtfulness. “I don’t think bad grades in math class would be enough to land us here.”

Mayuri laughed, too loud, and a wide smile broke across Hiroko’s face. The fact that her sister seemed to find her hilarious no matter how lame her jokes were was honestly such a confidence booster. 

“Do you think liking cats more than dogs would be enough of a sin to deserve this?” Mayuri asked, still fighting back giggles.

“Speak for yourself!” Hiroko snapped, her eyes shining and a wild smile still spread across her face. “It was probably all the plants that died under your care.”

“At least I never grew weed,” Mayuri teased with a sly smile, bumping their shoulders together. 

Hiroko shrugged, unrepentant, and mused, “Maybe we killed someone and just don’t remember it?”

And just like that, the light atmosphere was completely gone. Mayuri’s face fell as she dropped her gaze and whispered, “Dosu’s probably waiting for us. We should go.” Then she was off, and Hiroko was left scrambling to catch up, the sudden change in emotions enough to give her whiplash.

“What’s wrong?” she demanded, frowning. 

Mayuri shook her head, long hair swaying with the movement. The white had grown to frame her face, ending at her jawline. The black beneath it was abrupt, almost startling in its suddenness. Watching her hair grow was a strange reminder of the passage of time, months and years kept track of through where the white strands ended and black began. It was like Mayuri’s hair had become a visual representation of their lives; the _before_ and the _after._

“It’s nothing,” Mayuri snapped. She was chewing at her lips, and Hiroko could see blood welling up, almost black in the dim lights of the passages. 

Mayuri’s hands were trembling, ever so slightly, when Hiroko linked them together once more. She squeezed gently and her sister did not pull away, fingers twitching to loosely return the pressure. She breathed a silent sigh of relief, and did her best to ignore the anxiety and uncertainty that rose in her chest as she was left wondering what had made Mayuri so upset.

They walked in silence, neither of them speaking until they got to the cafeteria and found their friend. It wasn’t hard to spot him, since the cafeteria was mostly empty that time of day.

It wasn’t until they were sitting at the table, food in hand, and Dosu said dryly, “I hadn’t realized I’d started a fashion trend,” that Hiroko remembered that she had never gotten an answer to that, either.

Mayuri paused, chopsticks raised halfway to her mouth. She looked between her own hand and Dosu, then towards Hiroko. Her eyes were narrowed and dull, her expression hard to read. She wet her lips and slowly laid the chopsticks back down.

“From what Yumi-san said, she thinks that my kekkei genkei is having a strange effect on my body,” she said, staring straight into Hiroko’s eyes. Her voice was emotionless. She seemed to be searching for something. “She thinks my nerve endings, or at least something to do with my pain receptors, are beginning to change. She wants to wait until Kabuto-san gets back from his mission so they can collaborate or something.”

“So what’s with the bandages?” Dosu asked, head tilting the way it always did when he was confused. Hiroko was pretty sure that he didn’t understand some of the words that Mayuri had used. Mayuri tore her gaze from Hiroko’s and smiled, lifting one of her hands and twisting it in front of her face, as though to admire the stark white of the bandages. 

“She basically had me close my eyes and then stabbed me with her scalpels until she figured out how deep she had to cut before I could feel it.”

“ _What?!”_ Hiroko’s voice wheezed out, a strangled sound caught somewhere between a shout and a gasp. It sounded like an animal, cornered and wounded and desperate. Her breathing began to pick up, rattling in her chest and tearing at her throat.

Her chest was squeezing, filling with fury and horror all over again at this confirmation of a betrayal. She saw red, and didn’t realize that her hands were clenched into fists, nails digging into her palms deep enough to draw blood, until Mayuri’s gentle hands wound around hers, working to stop her from hurting herself. It was the same gentleness her sister had used Before, when they were young and she found out that she had been hurting herself again. 

When she looked into familiar green eyes, they held that same deep sorrow, the same patience and quiet resilience that had always been there. Slowly, she relaxed and let Mayuri entangle their fingers. The rough material scraped her palms, and the anger was still there, boiling and raging so close to the surface, but it was subdued for now. Tears were prickling at the backs of her eyes, and she felt light headed.

“I’m alright,” Mayuri promised, her voice low. Dosu was watching them, concern in the lines of his shoulders and the brightness of his eyes. “It was something that needed to be done, and I couldn’t even feel most of it, remember?”

Hiroko nodded, dropping her gaze towards their linked hands. The corners of her vision seemed to be wavering, her eyesight blurring and growing dark. She blinked, nose wrinkling as she tried to focus on slowing her breathing and clearing her sight.

“Can you feel this?” Hiroko asked, squeezing Mayuri’s hand. Her head snapped back up, eyes locking on her sister’s face, searching. Mayuri looked at her, brow creasing with uncertainty at the sudden intensity of Hiroko’s gaze.

_Answer the fucking question,_ Hiroko wanted to scream. There was panic rising in her chest, memories swirling through her mind that she begged to forget with the same breath she had once used to promise to never let go. 

“I can,” Mayuri said softly, leaning forward, squeezing back just hard enough to hurt. 

Hiroko stared into her eyes, searching through their depths for _something_ that not even she could name. After a long moment, she nodded, feeling lightheaded again. As her mind began to calm, she realized that her breaths were coming in great, heaving gasps. That explained the dizziness.

“Can you breathe with me?” Mayuri asked, never breaking eye contact. She felt a hand come to rest on her back, and had it been any lighter, she would have flinched away. 

Instead, Dosu’s touch was firm but gentle, pressing into her shoulder with just enough force to remind here where she was and to keep her grounded. She saw Mayuri smile, ever so slightly, gentle and encouraging and _alive._ With a deep, shuddering breath, Hiroko nodded and watched the changes in her sister’s expression.

.

“Remember how I said that Kabuto was out on a mission?” Mayuri asked later that night, as the two of them got ready for bed. 

“Not really,” Hiroko confessed, distracted as she tried to force a comb through the tangles in her hair. Mayuri hummed, pulling her nightshirt on and then dropping onto her own bed. She sat cross-legged, staring at Hiroko with a thoughtful expression on her face. Silence stretched on.

“You obviously have something to say,” Hiroko said after a moment, wincing as the comb hit another snag. She didn’t bother to give her sister her full attention, like she so obviously wanted. After another long moment of silence, she heard Mayuri sigh. 

“Okay, well, I asked her a little more about it and I guess he’s out on a long-term infiltration mission.”

There was a pause, as though she was waiting for a reaction from Hiroko. When she didn’t get one, she heaved another sigh and barreled on. Hiroko hid her smile; Mayuri could be such a drama queen.

“I think that he’s in a hidden village. Konoha, specifically. It would make sense, from what I’ve put together of the timeline.”

“Konoha?” Hiroko repeated, frowning. She tried to figure out why she knew that name, and after a second, it came to her. “That’s where Orochimaru-sama comes from, right? Where the show takes place. That would mean Naruto and the rest of them are there, too.”

Mayuri nodded. There was a strange, almost manic look in her eyes, like the thoughts in her head were too big and too bright to be contained. Her leg was bouncing and her fingers were tapping against the bare flesh of her thigh. It was easy to see how her nerves and her excitement were mounting.

The sight made Hiroko nervous. Her hands were trembling on the handle of the comb, trepidation building in her chest and rising to fill her throat. Mayuri was planning something, and she was already certain she wouldn’t like it.

“I think we should try to get ourselves assigned to an infiltration mission, too.”

Hiroko dropped her comb. It clattered to the floor, the sound disproportionately loud to its small size. Neither of the girls glanced towards it.

“How the fuck would we do that?”

“I haven’t quite figured that out yet,” Mayuri admitted. “I don’t think it would be too hard, though. Compared to our classmates, we’re pretty advanced, and I think the senseis have noticed that we’re getting restless with the current lessons. I’m sure I could come up with something!”

“Okay, but do you really think we would even be sent to Konoha?”

“Not really, no. But I think that no matter which village we would potentially end up in, we could work with it. I’m pretty sure that there are important characters in each of the shinobi villages, and if we could somehow manage to make friends with any of them—”

“Mayuri, this is crazy!” Hiroko interrupted, her voice cracking as she raised it to be heard over her sister’s rambling. 

“Do you want to stay here?” Mayuri asked. Her voice was soft, her expression almost hurt as she stared at Hiroko with familiar green eyes. 

“I don’t know, okay? I don’t fucking know!” She dropped her gaze to avoid the disappointment in Mayuri’s face. “In case you forgot, the last time we were outside Otogakure, we were _fucking murdered._ ” 

“Well the first night we were here, I saw the other mother get _fucking murdered,_ ” Mayuri snapped back. “How do we know that that’s not going to be us, the second we’re not useful anymore?” 

“What do you think Orochimaru-sama would do if we asked to leave, you idiot? Just let us go? Yeah, right.”

“We have a better chance of surviving if we can get out of here! Even if it’s just for a little while, if we can make connections outside this place, we’ll have people we can turn to if—”

“We can’t “turn to” anyone if we’re dead!”

“We have to try!”

“No, we don’t.”

“What happened to you?” Mayuri asked. Her voice was barely a whisper, so soft that Hiroko could barely hear it over the sound of the crackling torch. Still, the bewilderment and the disdain in her sister’s voice seemed to drive into her brain. “Do you even hear yourself right now? You used to be the brave one. When did you turn into a fucking _coward?”_

_“When I saw you die,_ ” Hiroko thought, wanted to scream, the words churning in her mind and burning like acid in the back of her throat. “ _You were killed because of some stupid, chance accident, and after that I was so scared. I was terrified of everything, and you are the reason that I am like this, so_ **fuck you.** ”

She couldn’t seem to make the words form. So instead, she gritted her teeth and blinked back tears. Her foot clipped the comb as she stood, sending it skittering loudly across the floor. She turned towards the door and did her best not to look at Mayuri’s face. 

“I’m going to sleep at Dosu’s tonight.”

“Hiro, _wait._ I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that, I just—”

Hiroko felt a hand on her shoulder, tiny fingers digging in. She whirled so that they stood nose-to-nose, and he could hear her heartbeat thundering in her ears and that burning chakra pressing against the seal on her back, collecting and pooling until it was an intense white-hot pressure. She snarled, and felt nothing but cold fury at the sight of her sister looking so very contrite. 

“Don’t touch me!”

“Hey, please, just listen to me. I’m sorry, Hiro, but if you’ll just _listen_ to me—”

“Fuck. Off.”

And with that, she stormed out, slamming the door behind her.

.

In the morning, neither of them would acknowledge what had happened the night before. Dosu would sit between them, uncertain and awkward, and breakfast would pass in frigid silence. 

By the end of the week, it would be like nothing had ever happened.

Mayuri would not bring up the idea of leaving again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who's stuck it out with me through these long pauses between chapters. Every hit, bookmark, kudo, and comment fills me with immeasurable joy! I want to give a special shoutout to those of you who have commented, because whenever I'm feeling down or uninspired, I go back and reread them and they help me to continue writing.
> 
> Now, I'd also like to mention that some lovely people left some awesome ideas for AUs in their comments on ff.net! I LOVE THAT SHIT. Unfortunately, though, I probably won't be writing/posting any prompts or AUs here or there. HOWEVER. If you go to my tumblr and submit an idea, anonymous or not, I will probably definitely fill it! Feel free to do so on daboyau. tumblr. com!
> 
> Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed! See you next chapter. ^_^


	19. New Lessons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all, just FYI, I wrote this chapter mostly just for fun/stress relief and to further develop characters and to world build more. So it's really just a bunch of fluff. If you are super opposed to that for some reason, it's not totally necessary to read it, though you will get some hints for future plans if you do! ;)

_(After much begging on her part, Avery’s grandpa agrees to teach her what he knows about weapons when she is 12, while she and Elle are visiting him and their grandma over the summer. He’s a veteran with an interest in guns and sharp things, and more stories and knowledge than she can even imagine._

_He shows her how to shoot a gun in the quiet of a Louisiana bayou, the sun beating down on them and sweat trickling down her back, her glasses sliding from her nose. There is nothing but the muffled sound of the water, his scratchy voice, and the deafening thunder of each gunshot. She’s decent with the shotgun, and they move on to handguns quickly. She’s so thrilled at hitting her marks that she doesn’t even notice that the hammer has caught her thumb until there’s blood trickling down her arm._

_When she returns from the house, bandaid already stained red with blood, it’s to find Elle hitting each can with apparent ease. Avery stands back and watches, lips pressed into a thin line as the cans rattle and fall with each loud crack._

_At the end of the lesson, he takes them back inside and gives them a lesson on how to clean the guns. Elle escapes into their shared room before the end, but Avery sits and listens. Their grandpa moves on from cleaning guns to the correct way to handle certain knives, then to different kinds of swords, then to the functionality of a butterfly knife, and she is enraptured by every new conversation and every change in topic._

_He gives Avery a throwing star and a few throwing knives and tells her to practice with them, instead. She’s not great, but after a while, she can at least hit the wooden board she’s aiming at almost every time. He promises her that he’ll teach her swordplay some day, maybe next time they visit. He smiles warmly and ruffles her hair and tells her that, if she promises not to tell her mom, next time they go into town, he’ll buy her the dragon-hilted knife that he knows she’d been eying. She blushes and insists it isn’t necessary, but he just laughs and, secretly, she’s pleased._

_By the time she heads back outside to practice, Elle has disappeared to swim in the bayou, uncaring of their grandparents’ warnings of the alligator gar fish and actual alligators that call the murky water home. She’s too entranced by the fact that there are otters living under the pier to care about the nest of sharp-toothed fish, bigger than she is, that brush her sides as she swims below the rotting wood._

_Elle has lost interest in the weapons. Though Avery won’t say it aloud, she’s a little relieved.)_

.

The sweat was just barely drying on their skin when Mayuri asked him if he would show them more of the base. They had an hour before their next lesson began, and during the allotted time the children were encouraged to eat a light snack and to keep moving in some way. Technically, exploring the village counted as light exercise. 

Dosu and Hiroko groaned in unison at Mayuri’s request, neither one wanting to move after the hours of training they had already put in that day.

“We’ve done nothing _but_ explore Otogakure in our free time,” Dosu pointed out, sounding a little woozy. One of the girls from his age group had apparently been learning genjutsu, and she had done a number on him during their spar. He’d been stumbling the rest of the lesson, and Mayuri was pretty sure he had yet to refocus his eyes. 

“Yeah, it’ll just be boring. I’m too tired to move! My whole body hurts,” Hiroko whined, blinking up at her sister with big sad puppydog eyes. Mayuri wanted to laugh, because Hiroko was well aware that that look hadn’t worked on her Before, and it certainly wouldn’t work on her now, yet she just kept trying it. Mayuri had to admire her little sister’s resilience in that respect, at least. 

“You’ll just be more sore later if you don’t keep moving.” As she spoke, Mayuri kicked herself up into a handstand and balanced for just a second before falling the rest of the way and landing in a backbend. She huffed angrily, annoyed that she couldn’t hold her form, and lurched up to stand straight. She brushed the hair that had escaped her braid out of her face, eyeing her companions as they continued to stare at her from the floor. “Plus, sensei will enjoy beating you up even more if he finds out that you didn’t follow his instructions,” she reminded them cheerfully, a thinly veiled warning in her words as she stretched her arms over her head. 

They both looked at her with eyes full of betrayal. Hiroko groaned dramatically, arms splayed out wide. Mayuri grinned back, crooked and full of teeth, and they both sighed but forced themselves to their feet. Mayuri bounced cheerfully on the balls of her feet, her smile softening to something more natural and cheerful as the three of them headed out into the interconnecting passageways that came together to form Otogakure.

“Where haven’t we been yet?” Hiroko asked, her face set into a mask of annoyance as she trailed along behind Dosu and Mayuri. 

“I don’t think you’ve seen the training grounds yet,” Dosu said thoughtfully, his rough voice echoing through the halls. They each moved carefully, the bells around their ankles and wrists barely making a single sound and their footsteps nearly silent. That part of their training was coming along very nicely, much to Mayuri’s begrudging satisfaction. 

“Aren’t the training grounds just…’ya know. Where we train every day?” 

He huffed out an almost-laugh, the bandages covering his face rustling. “No, that’s just where we’re learning. The training grounds are where the actual shinobi go to learn. My mom’s taken me there a couple of times. It’s got obstacles and traps and stuff. It’s a lot cooler than the academy’s stuff.”

“Oh, is that what we’re doing?” Hiroko asked, sarcasm heavy in her voice. “Going to an academy?”

Dosu glanced back at her, head tilted in confusion. It had been hard, at first, to read his movements and his emotions. The bandages had made it nearly impossible to see any emotions that his face might give away. Even when the bandages were torn or removed, the horrific scarring had disfigured and warped his features enough that it was hard to find any emotions there at all. After spending enough time with him, though, both of the girls had gotten pretty decent at figuring out what he might be feeling from minute body movements and other more subtle tells. 

“What’s that face for?” Mayuri asked, mirroring his movement, head tipping to convey her own confusion. The bandages wrinkled slightly as Dosu arched a nonexistent brow. 

“What did you think we were doing?” he asked, his attention turned to Hiroko. She shrugged and he sighed. “Of course we’re going to the academy. We’re learning to be shinobi, aren’t we?”

She laughed and shook her head, flipping her long black hair over her shoulder in the process. The second they were done training, she always took it out of its bun, preferring to wear it loose. “Well, you got me there. I guess we are in the academy, aren’t we?”

Dosu rolled his eyes, but didn’t respond. He moved ahead, longer legs making him faster than either of the five-year-olds. They hurried to keep up, and Mayuri took note of the fact that neither of them were breathing any harder yet. Apparently the hellish exercise really was good for something, after all. 

The training grounds turned out to actually be a series of caverns connected by narrow, dark passages. Dosu stopped them in the first cavern and explained that each room served a different purpose, and that each of the passages were full of boobytraps and obstacles. The first cavern was the safest one, where shinobi came for light sparring sessions or to practice their aim with kunai or other weapons. There was only one person in it at that moment. 

“The furthest and most deadly training ground is also the one closest to the entrance to the village,” he whispered. He was watching the kunoichi practice her aim with senbon, and missed the tension-filled look that the sisters shared. “You haven’t been around for an evacuation drill yet, have you? It’s pretty cool. In case of a raid or emergency, all of us would get out of here and the traps would all be activated. Then the intruders would be faced with some pretty deadly stuff.” 

He laughed and Mayuri could admit that that strange, rasping sandpaper sound of his joy had sort of grown on her. 

“I guess that means that Otogakure shinobi have to be really strong, huh?” she asked, leaning against Dosu’s side. 

“Yeah,” Hiroko added, leaning into his other side. “It’s really impressive that normal training for our shinobi is deadly to outsiders.”

Their voices were just loud enough to carry, and the kunoichi paused in her training to turn towards them. Her expression softened at the sight of the three children and she smiled. Mayuri and Hiroko smiled back, twin grins that they already knew could melt the hearts of all but the most grouchy and war-scarred of shinobi. Dosu draped an arm around each of their shoulders, the fabric of his too-long sleeves hiding his scarred fingers and brushing against the girls’ ribcages. 

“Did you three want to learn?” the kunoichi asked, her voice smooth and kind. Mayuri hesitated, well aware of the fact that her eyesight was shit and she wouldn’t be able to see the targets clearly enough to actually hit them. She knew that Hiroko had gone tense as well, for a completely different reason. Her sister didn’t like interacting with new people, and while a part of her yearned to make friends, her anxiety was hard to overcome. Sensing their hesitance, Dosu huffed and trapped them each in a headlock, shuffling forward and dragging them along with him despite their muffled noises of indignation.

“They’re shy, but we’d like to learn anything you can teach us,” he announced, bowing slightly and dragging the sisters down with him. The kunoichi laughed loudly, the sound pure and sweet, filling Mayuri with a tentative warmth. Surely someone who could laugh like that couldn’t be a bad person, right? Dosu released his hold on them, and Mayuri offered the woman a small smile.

Some time later found Mayuri sitting to the side, squinting at the target and tossing a kunai thoughtlessly between her hands. The kunoichi, who had introduced herself as Risa, had given her a few kunai and shuriken to practice with after she had proven that she was absolutely hopeless with the senbon. Dosu had laughed at her, but promised to help her with target practice later. Mayuri liked to think that the only reason she was so abysmal with them was that she just couldn’t see them after a certain point, but that was probably a lie. Still, it made her feel better. 

She was a little better with the more traditional weapons, enjoying the weight of them in her hand. Dosu was already pretty much a pro at them, and had at least been able to hit the general area of the target with the senbon after a little practice. Hiroko, however, had managed to hit the target dead-on after she got the hang of them. Risa’s focus had very quickly shifted over to the younger girl, her eyes bright and her smile wide as she corrected Hiroko’s stance or directed her to aim for a more difficult target.

“You jealous yet?” Dosu teased as he settled down next to her. She could tell by the way his chin lifted and the light in his eyes that he was grinning behind his bandages. Mayuri huffed and flipped the kunai, only to let out a dissatisfied hiss as she caught it by the wrong end. Dosu rolled his eyes.

“I’m not jealous,” she defended, pulling her hand close to inspect the damage. She had noticed that her ability to tell how badly she was hurt had diminished, to the point she had taken to asking Hiroko or Dosu to check her over after each spar to make sure she didn’t need medical attention for anything. It was worrying, if she was being honest with herself. This new cut wasn’t too bad, though it would probably leave a scar. 

Her eyes scanned her hands and arms, still searching for old scars from another life entirely. Even after two years, it was still strange to no longer know her own hands.

“Are too.”

“Yeah, right. Just like you’re jealous that we can do headstands and you can’t? Everyone is good at different things. Just because Hiroko is good at _everything_ she sets out to do, that doesn’t mean—”

Dosu crossed his arms and she cut herself off, face flushing red. She sighed and the silence stretched on. 

“It’s okay to be jealous you know,” he told her at last, eyes gentle. It was easy to forget sometimes that he wasn’t even eight years old yet. He was still just a child, yet he seemed so mature and grown up to her sometimes. It scared her, to think that her brain still had such a hold on her. A child his age shouldn’t seem so much older and wiser, and yet there were days where she found herself believing his every word with the wide-eyed trust of the child her brain still thought she was. She looked up at him, taking in the softness of his black eyes, the smoothness of the bandages, and the easy way he held himself. She relaxed slightly, her lips twitching up into a smile. 

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” she began, only to cut herself off with a choked shriek as he pounced on her, twisted fingers digging into her sides in a tickle-attack that was just short of painful. 

“But I’m _not_ jealous of _you,_ you little brat!” he teased, fingers pressing hard into her flesh to make sure she felt it. 

She laughed between her shrieks, fists pounding playfully against his back and shoulders. Though they were light strikes, she knew that they would probably leave bruises. Their senseis hadn’t really bothered to teach them how to pull their punches to anything less than “not technically lethal.” Even with her chakra sealed, her bones were unusually dense, and she knew that any hits with body parts that _weren’t_ fleshy generally felt more like getting knocked around with steel beams rather than fists or shins. Not that anyone would ever dare to complain when they were forced to pair up with her during sparring sessions; their senseis generally didn’t take kindly to students who questioned or disobeyed an order.

“What the hell do you brats think you’re doing?” 

Apparently the saying, “speak of the devil and he shall appear” worked with senseis, as well. 

Mayuri and Dosu froze, both turning to look at the man who was standing over them, arms crossed and features stony. His voice was soft and gruff, angry enough to raise goosebumps across Mayuri’s flesh. Dosu was yanked away, straight up into the air. Their sensei held him up by the back of the shirt, legs kicking uselessly as he reached up to grasp at his collar, choking as the fabric tightened across his throat.

“Sensei, please put him down!” she pleaded immediately, jumping to her feet and stepping forward, hands already outstretched like she could somehow free him through sheer force of will. 

Immediately, she found herself scooped up as well. She yelped, blinking in shock as she was hoisted up and dangled like a misbehaving kitten. The collar of her tunic was lower cut than Dosu’s, so there wasn’t the uncomfortable sensation of choking, but it wasn’t a pleasant feeling to be dangling like this. The fabric was pulled taut across her chest and the seams were digging into her armpits. 

After a second of instinctual struggling, Mayuri allowed herself to go limp. She pouted, mostly to hide the pinch of fear in her belly that rose at the thought of what her sensei might do to them. She wasn’t really _scared_ of him, per se, but she was certainly wary. He was bigger and stronger than her, and he had a power and authority over her. While she didn’t like to admit it, even to herself, she was instinctively wary around adults in positions of power and would do most anything to make sure she didn’t get on their bad side.

“Put them down!” Hiroko shouted, rushing forward with a fire in her mismatched eyes. She looked fully prepared to fight Tanuma-sensei, despite how hopelessly outmatched she would be. 

Before she could reach them, though, Risa stopped her in her track by snatching the back of her shirt and holding her there until her angry thrashing calmed. Her tiny hands were balled into fists at her sides, her chest heaving and her eyes sharp and angry. She would probably cut an imposing figure with that stance and expression some day, but at such a young age, she just looked sullen and adorable.  
Mayuri sighed and dropped her head, because yelling at their sensei definitely wasn’t going to solve anything. Hiroko’s temper might even end up making it worse, especially if she decided that striking out at the man would be the best course of action. She could feel his hand tighten in the material of her shirt, like he was wishing he had a free hand to scoop Hiroko up as well.

“What are you doing, Tanuma?” Risa asked, releasing her hold on Hiroko’s collar to cross her arms over her chest. There was the hint of a smile in her eyes, but her mouth was turned down into a disapproving frown. The woman’s hair was messy and her face was red and sweaty, but Mayuri could hear a slight hitch in her sensei’s breath at the sight of her. Mayuri frowned, wondering if maybe Risa outranked him or was somehow dangerous enough to make him worry. 

“These three,” and he paused to give the two students he had his hands on a good shake, rattling Mayuri’s teeth and making Dosu gag a little, “—were meant to be back in my class 30 minutes ago! I had to leave _Kohaku_ in charge of the class while I came to find these brats. Do you know how awful that kid is at—”

“Oh, lay off it. Put the kids down before that boy starts losing brain cells.”

Tanuma-sensei made a quiet strangled noise. Then, much to Mayuri’s surprise, dropped them both. She grabbed Dosu’s arm and together they scrambled to stand just out of arm’s reach of their sensei, dragging Hiroko along with them. She was still glaring angrily at the man, and Mayuri elbowed her meaningfully. She apparently either didn’t get the message or didn’t care, because her angry expression didn’t go away.

“Risa-san, you can’t tell me what to do with my students,” he declared, arms crossed and face stony. Risa snorted and mirrored his position, stance wide and arms crossed, but she appeared loose and relaxed, otherwise. 

“I was just saying that you were well on your way to making one of your smartest students brain dead, and two of your most gifted kunoichis hate you,” she shot back, a lazy smile playing across her face. Her voice was softer and lower than it had been before. “Besides, I was teaching them. What more could you want?”

Mayuri felt Dosu’s elbow dig into her side, and when she glanced at him, he was practically glowing at the indirect compliments. She grinned back, her own excitement at the acknowledgement a warm bubbling in her chest. Beside her, Hiroko leaned in closer, practically pressed to her side.

“For them to come to class on time, for one,” Tanuma grumbled in response, but it didn’t hold any real anger. Risa laughed, her head thrown back, and Mayuri could have sworn she saw his cheeks darken with a blush as his eyes darted from Risa’s face to the ground and then back again. 

“You say that like _you_ ever came to class on time, back in our academy days,” she teased, stepping closer until they stood almost toe-to-toe. Mayuri watched with a dawning sense of realization as their sensei turned into a stuttering mess, face growing even more red, all the way to the tips of his ears.

“Sensei has a crush,” she hissed into Hiroko’s ear, her eyes wide. Hiroko rolled her eyes, mouth opening to make a snappy retort. Dosu slapped them both upside the head, his eyes closed and his face resigned. Apparently, their sensei was too enthralled with Risa to notice his students’ exchange. 

Somehow, by the time he left, they had been given permission to continue training with Risa until she was tired of them. Hiroko laughed at the news, loud and boisterous, then turned to Risa and, with all the embarrassing bluntness of a child, asked, “Are you two in love?”

Dosu groaned and dropped his head into his hands, likely lamenting his choice of friends. Mayuri patted his back sympathetically but waited for Risa’s answer with baited breath. The woman laughed softly, one hand moving to scratch the side of her nose in a nervous gesture that had apparently never been trained out of her. She leaned in a little closer, voice going quiet like she was telling a secret. 

“I think we are,” she admitted, and Hiroko laughed again. 

“How do the two of you know each other?” Dosu spoke up, moving closer and settling down cross-legged in front of her. Hiroko and Mayuri moved to copy him, knees bumping as they stared up at their temporary sensei with curious eyes, anticipating a story. Risa hummed, then settled herself into a graceful seiza in front of them.

“Well, we grew up in the same village. We were actually in the same class in the academy. After graduation, we ended up doing a lot of missions together and we grew to be quite close.”

“Which village were you from?” Dosu asked, unusually vocal. Mayuri glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, confused by his actions. He had always been curious, but unless he was lecturing her and Hiroko or the other students, he was usually pretty quiet. 

“Have you ever heard of Takumigakure?” she asked. The children all shook their heads and she shrugged, like their answer was expected. “Not a lot of people have. It’s a village of artisans. I actually apprenticed under some of the most renowned weapon makers in the village!” Her voice was full of pride and her grin was bright and cheerful. 

“Why did you leave?” The question came from Hiroko, soft and almost afraid. Risa’s smile faltered and she dropped her gaze to her hands, resting motionless in her lap. She sighed. Mayuri got the feeling she knew where the story was going.

“I told you that your sensei and I were very close, didn’t I? Well, there was...tension in the village between certain people. Families that didn’t agree with some of the ideals of the village leader, that were vocal about their own opinions. Something...well, something bad happened. Tanuma and I were out on a mission during that time, but when we came back….” She sighed again. “There wasn’t any family left for either of us to come back to. We left as soon as we learned what had happened.”

It was easy to read between the lines. It wasn’t an unusual tale, really. A good portion of Otogakure’s citizens seemed to be remnants of clans that had dwindled, either naturally or through outside interferences. Still, it made Mayuri’s heart ache a little bit every time she heard these sorts of stories. She was sad for these people whose entire families had been ripped from them. It made her think of the family that she had left behind and made her itch to find some way to get back to them, grief something hollow and echoing inside her chest that she refused to acknowledge in the light of day.

“I’m sorry,” Hiroko whispered, soft and sincere. It was the same tone she used whenever someone shared the stories of their past with her, and she meant it every time. Risa shook her head.

“It’s fine, Hiroko-chan. It’s been a few years, so I’ve had time to get over it. Don’t tell Tanuma I told you about it, though!” She gave a soft, brittle laugh before continuing. “Anyways, a little while after that happened Orochimaru-sama approached me to ask if I would make a new home here. I asked if I could bring my teammate along, he said yes, and I’ve been making specialised weapons for Otogakure ever since.”

“But sensei was so nervous around you,” Dosu pointed out, arms crossed over his chest and head tilted to the side. His eyes were narrowed slightly, showing how hard he was thinking over this. Mayuri snickered and elbowed him, ignoring his answering shove. Risa’s grin was back full force, and Mayuri wondered if that had been his plan all along, or if he was fishing for information for some other reason. 

“Well, we’ve never really made anything _official_ ,” she admitted. “I’m waiting for him to make the first move. It’s actually kind of fun to see him become a stuttering mess whenever I’m around!”

“Ooo, you’re evil!” Mayuri cooed while Hiroko burst into another bout of laughter. Dosu crossed his arms and muttered something about women being cruel, which got him another bruising elbow to the ribs from Mayuri and a poorly-aimed kick from Hiroko but was otherwise ignored. 

“Speaking of evil, I think it’s about time we get started on your training again!” Risa said cheerfully, clapping her hands and getting to her feet. Then, suddenly, there were senbon clasped between each finger and her smile was sharp and overly cheerful. “I’ve never been a sensei before, so this will be a learning experience for all of us!”

Mayuri and Hiroko shared a look, wondering what they had gotten themselves into.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you read, then thank you very much!! I hope you enjoyed it. (Dosu has a crush, which is why he was so interested in what Risa had to say. Lol)


	20. Revelations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This takes place directly after the previous chapter.

“You all held up pretty well!” Risa announced three hours later, her grin bright as she surveyed the three sweaty and exhausted children before her. They each made low noises of acknowledgement, which mostly just sounded like pained moans. Risa threw her head back and laughed, loud and joyful and not tired in the least. 

The training had started with basic target practice, each of the children better learning their abilities and which projectile they prefered. Dosu had, unsurprisingly, been proficient with every one of the weapons. Mayuri had found she worked best with the shuriken, but could at least hit the general area of the target with kunai. They were weighted differently than throwing knives, flying straight instead of end-over-end, but the theory was similar. It was just a slightly different flick of the wrist. She was still abysmal with the senbon, much to her chagrin. 

Hiroko, on the other hand, had continued her streak of almost-perfect aim the whole session. She had very cheerfully kicked both their asses each time Risa directed them to all aim for the same target.  
After that, Risa had decided that it would be fun for them to practice _dodging_ projectile weapons. That was around the time that things started getting a lot more difficult and far more dangerous. Regardless of their new sensei’s excited promises, none of the kids had any fun at all with that particular exercise.

“Alright, kiddos. Go visit the medics for the worst of those cuts before you bleed out,” Risa said cheerfully as she packed up the various tools of her trade. Mayuri wasn’t totally sure how she managed to fit so many weapons into her pack, but sure enough, they all disappeared into the depths of her bag. 

Right as they reached the exit, though, she stopped them with a call of, “Oh, wait! Hiroko-chan, can I actually speak with you for a moment?”

Hiroko gave her sister a slightly panicked look, but reluctantly headed back over towards Risa. Her movements were already a little stiff from the hours of abuse on her muscles and Mayuri knew that they were all going to be waddling awkwardly for a few days. She had the feeling that Tanuma and Risa were going to be laughing about it behind their backs. Adults were jerks like that.

Dosu and Mayuri lingered by the door, watching as they talked. It was hard to figure out what was being said, but whatever it was seemed to surprise Hiroko. She had her back to them, but even with the thick curtain of hair, it was easy to see the way her posture went rigid only to slowly relax. Dosu and Mayuri shared a look, half relief and half curiosity, because apparently it was something that Hiroko wasn’t too stressed about. By the time the conversation was finished and she came bouncing back to them, there was a smile on her face. 

“So?” Mayuri prompted as the three of them headed out into the hall. “What was that about?”

Hiroko brushed her hair back, pushing it over her shoulders and out of her face. Mayuri watched it sway with every step, a little jealous of how thick it was. Hiroko stepped forward, then turned to face them so she was walking backwards, her eyes bright and a smile big enough to make Mayuri’s heart swell with empathic happiness at the sight of her sister so excited. 

Taking a deep breath, Hiroko blurted, “She wanted to know if I’d like to take private lessons with her! She’s apparently going to be teaching another girl starting next month and thought that I’d benefit from her lessons. Also, you remember that time Tanuma-sensei found me drawing on my papers and yelled for, like, an hour before confiscating them? Well, apparently Risa-san saw them at some point and thought that I showed “potential.” She wants to teach me some of her crafting, too!”

 _“What?”_ Dosu snapped, speaking up before Mayuri had even processed her sister’s words. His voice was sharp, almost upset. Hiroko’s eyes went wide as she turned her attention to him, confused and taken aback at his tone.

“What?”

“You’ve been asked to apprentice under someone already?” Dosu clarified, tone still strangely harsh, and Mayuri watched as Hiroko’s joy disappeared like it had never been there at all. Her smile slipped away, and she turned her back to them. 

Mayuri glanced towards her friend, taking in the surprise in his stance and the strangeness of his tone, and noting something darker in the way his hands curled into fists. She frowned.

“Is it really that rare?” Mayuri asked, turning her gaze towards Hiroko’s back. 

She was still walking in front of them, trying to hide her face and whatever emotions might be displayed there. She was moving stiffly, her shoulders a tense line; apparently, she had heard the strange note in Dosu’s tone as well, and it bothered her. Mayuri wasn’t sure what to say to let her know that it was okay to be happy about it, because she wasn’t sure what Dosu’s issue with it was. She didn’t want to encourage Hiroko to take an opportunity that would get her killed. Again. 

“I mean, a lot of people end up as apprentices if their skillsets get someone’s attention. It just doesn’t usually happen quite so fast, is all.” 

“It’s not an apprenticeship!” Hiroko cut in, spinning so she was facing them. 

Her face was red, and Mayuri wasn’t sure anymore if her eyes were bright with excitement, embarrassment, or unshed tears; it was a little hard to tell with Hiroko, sometimes. They stopped walking, and Mayuri was glad that the passageway was deserted. It would have been awkward to have to stop this conversation midway because someone had to cut through their misshapen little triangle to get wherever they were going. 

“Then what is it?” Dosu shot back, crossing his arms in challenge. 

Mayuri rolled her eyes but didn’t say anything, deciding to let the two of them get out whatever pent up feelings of frustration that hours of hard work and exhaustion had created. As much as she loved her sister and wanted to back her up, she knew better than to interfere right at that moment. The whole situation was being blown way out of proportion, and she already knew this argument had to run its course or else they’d all be pissy for days. 

The last time Dosu and Hiroko had had an actual argument, it had been over which one of them was better at genjutsu. It had managed to disrupt nearly every lesson since they refused to work together, and had ended only after Tanuma-sensei had forced them both to spar until neither could stand anymore and stood over them, glaring, until they talked it out and resolved the issue.

Neither of them had even begun learning genjutsu yet.

Mayuri was in something of a nasty mood herself, as tired as she was, and didn’t want to add anything to it. Shuffling backwards slightly and rising to balance on the balls of her feet, she watched as Hiroko scowled and crossed her own arms. She lifted her chin to glare Dosu down with her mismatched eyes.

“It’s just her teaching me and another girl something she thinks we’d be good at.”

“So an apprenticeship,” Dosu snarked back, his eyes narrowed. 

“Why are you getting so worked up about this? What does it _matter?”_ she snarled, taking a step forward. Mayuri frowned as she watched, wondering if she was going to have to step in after all. 

“I’m not getting worked up! You’re the one acting all snotty about it.” 

“I am not! You’re the one who’s always going on and _on_ about how great your mom is and how much she’s taught you! Why can’t I have someone who teaches me something without you getting angry about it?”

The silence that followed her outburst was heavy and awkward. Mayuri looked between the two of them, taking in the way her sister’s chest was heaving and the red spots on her cheeks, then the way Dosu’s eyes had gone wide and how he suddenly seemed to find the floor especially interesting. She sighed and stepped closer so she was brushing against Hiroko’s side, trying to show her sister some support.

Hiroko stepped away immediately, a scowl on her face. Mayuri frowned, but ignored the little twinge of hurt she felt at the action. She turned her attention towards Dosu, who was still examining the ground, and sighed. It looked like she was going to have to play peacemaker, after all.

“Hiroko, you said that there’s going to be another girl in your lessons, right? What’s her name?”

“Kin,” she answered shortly, still scowling. Dosu twitched. Mayuri arched an eyebrow, head cocking thoughtfully to the side as she searched her memories to find a face to put with the name.

“Wait, _Kin?_ Isn’t she the one that kicked Dosu’s ass with that crazy genjutsu, earlier?”

“Oh, shut up,” he spat, and Mayuri could see the way the tip of his visible ear was turning red. 

She grinned and turned to place a hand on Hiroko’s shoulder, mouth opening to make a joke she hoped would break the tension. Before she could say a single word, though, Hiroko wrenched away. Mayuri snatched her hand to her chest like it had been burned, watching her sister with wide eyes as she turned on her heel and stormed away. 

The echo of her footsteps faded away, and after a moment more of awkward silence, Dosu hesitantly moved closer to stand by Mayuri’s side. 

“Should we go after her?”

Mayuri stared down the passageway with narrowed eyes, like squinting would somehow show that Hiroko was still there, waiting just outside the torches’ light. She sighed and slumped, head bowed. After a second, she shook her head. 

“No, it’s probably better to just let her cool off by herself for a little while.”

“You sure?”

Another sigh. “No, I’m not. But if either of us go after her when she’s angry she’ll just get even angrier, you know?”

Dosu hesitated, and his bandages crinkled as he frowned. For a second, Mayuri was left to wonder if she was going to have to stop him from going after Hiroko and possibly getting himself skewered with the shiny new senbon she had seen her sister slip up her sleeves, but finally, he nodded. She patted him on the arm. 

“Let’s go get something to eat. If you bring her her favorite food, Hiroko might be more inclined to forgive you for being a jerk!”

“I wasn’t being a jerk!” 

“Fine. An asshole, then. Is that better?”

She barked out a laugh as he spluttered, dancing away from him as he reached out to grab her. He yelled after her, and his scratchy voice echoed off the high ceilings and down the long halls. She led the way towards the cafeteria, making sure she kept herself just a step ahead the whole way, refusing to meet his eye. She wasn’t above being petty to anyone who hurt Hiroko’s feelings, even if he was the only friend they had in this place.

.

She left the cafeteria with a heavy tray of food and a sincere apology to Hiroko from Dosu. He couldn’t deliver it in person because his mom had returned while they were training with Risa and wanted to spend as much time with him as she could before her next mission. Mayuri really couldn’t fault him for wanting to spend time with his mother; after all, she would give almost anything for just one more moment with her own.

The halls leading towards her and Hiroko’s room were nearly empty, and she could hear the soft sound of her footsteps echoing back to her as well as the occasional jingle of one of the silver bells looped around her limbs. Whenever she heard the sound, she would remind herself to move a little slower, to be more aware of each step and to make her movements smoother and more graceful.

She was so focused on her own feet that she did not notice there was someone else in the hall until she was colliding with them. 

She gasped as the tray slipped from her hands. Before it could fall to the ground, though, the person she had crashed into caught it in one smooth motion, not spilling a single drop. Their free hand grabbed her arm when she stumbled and righted her.

“I’m so sorry!” she gasped before she had even fully comprehended what was going on. The pressure on her arm was light, almost gentle, and she smiled as she accepted the tray back. “That was so amazing! Thank you so...much….”

Mayuri trailed off as she caught sight of the hem of the stranger’s sleeve. Slowly, she let her eyes move upwards. She felt her breath catch in her throat as she took in the sight of a black cloak with red clouds standing in screaming contrast. Memories surfaced and, as faint as they might be, _she recognized the pattern._

She was left frozen, breathless, staring wide-eyed at the cloak. Her mind was spinning, trying to remember what she could about the organization and trying desperately to figure out what they might be doing in Otogakure. The person’s face was shadowed, the wide brim of their kasa and the high collar of the cloak hiding their identity, but she already knew just by what organization they were apart of that they were deadly. 

She jerked away at last as her emotions caught up to her, confusion and panic rising in her chest. The bells around her wrists jingled softly as she clutched the tray with a white-knuckled grip. Could she use it as a weapon, somehow? Could she outrun this person and warn one of the grown ups before they decided to attack?

She took another step back, muscles tensing as she prepared to fight or to run. Either way, she would have to be quiet; she was close enough to her room that, if she screamed, Hiroko would hear. She would come to help, and Mayuri couldn’t bare to put her baby sister in that kind of danger. No matter how fast Hiroko was, no matter how good she was with projectile weapons, she wouldn’t survive in a fight against an Akatsuki member.

Mayuri took another stumbling step back, and steaming broth spilled over the sides of the tray and onto her fingers. She barely noticed, aside from the stirrings of an idea in the recesses of her mind. The Akatsuki member laughed, soft and rasping.

“You seem upset, dear child,” a familiar voice said, amusement and something colder in his tone. “Whatever could be troubling you?”

Mayuri’s brow crinkled in confusion, and she forced herself to follow the line of the cloak upwards, leaving herself vulnerable as she bared her throat, squinting at the shadowy place his face was supposed to be. Another soft sound of amusement, and in one smooth motion, the top buttons of the cloak were unsnapped and the hat was pulled off. Long dark hair fell free like a black waterfall, framing his face flawlessly. 

It was, quite possibly, the most artfully dramatic thing she had ever seen. 

“Orochimaru-sama?”

He smiled, and though his lips stretched just as they should to form an expression of warm regard, his golden eyes remained cold and unfeeling. Despite that, a feeling of relief swept through Mayuri; the village wasn’t under attack after all. She didn’t have to worry about fighting or running for her life just yet.

“I didn’t recognize you. My apologies, Orochimaru-sama,” she said, bowing. She tried to calm her racing heart and to stop the trembling she could feel in her fingers.

“You thought I was an enemy,” he murmured, voice like a caress. He did not sound upset, much to Mayuri’s relief, but there was something in his tone that sent a chill climbing her spine regardless. “What were you planning, Mayuri-chan?” 

His voice was soft. He sounded curious, and when she looked at him, his eyes seemed to glow in the torchlight. Mayuri chewed her bottom lip and lowered her eyes again, focusing her gaze on his feet. His toenails were painted a lovely shade of purple. 

“It wasn’t anything, really. I knew that I wouldn’t be a match for a real shinobi, so I was going to use this,” she lifted the tray a little, and the steaming broth sloshed with the movement. “—to distract you. Then I was going to just run to find someone who would be able to either raise an alarm or hold off an enemy.”

He hummed, and Mayuri had no idea what he could possibly be thinking. Head tilting to the side and eyes narrowing, he asked, “Why would you not call for help right away?”

Mayuri hesitated, wondering if she should tell the truth of not. Would he know if she lied? Was there any reason to lie in the first place? She wasn’t sure, and she didn’t want to risk him knowing if she lied. The truth was easier.

“I didn’t want to yell where my sister might hear. If she heard me in trouble, Hiroko would come to see what was happening and I didn’t want her to be in danger, too.”

“And your distraction. You planned to use that?” he asked, eyes sliding down to the tray she held, clutched close to her body to keep it from shaking and spilling any more. His smile was frozen on his features. Mayuri nodded. 

“Yes, Orochimaru-sama. I imagine almost anyone would be distracted if they found themselves with a face full of hot ramen.”

As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Mayuri froze, heart leaping to rest in her throat. Would he think she was being sassy? Would he punish her for not taking this conversation seriously? He was, after all, not only the Otokage, but also the man who would become one of the most prolific villains of this world, if he wasn’t already. He obviously had no qualms about killing children for much less than a perceived slight. 

Her eyes darted up to his face, wide and scared as she searched his features for any sign of annoyance or threat. Much to her surprise, though, she could find no hint of anger. Instead, there was something arguably far more dangerous in the glint of his eyes; _interest._

The silence stretched between them. Mayuri stood frozen, uncomfortable and uncertain, trapped like a mouse beneath a snake’s hypnotic gaze. Orochimaru made no move to break the silence. He seemed to be waiting for her to speak again. 

Mayuri wet her lips, eyes darting around as she searched desperately for some way to move the conversation along. She resisted the urge to start bouncing, struggling to maintain some semblance of the persona she had worked so hard to mold herself into for the sake of keeping adults’ eyes off of her. Finally, her eyes caught once more on the bright splash of color across the darkness of his cloak. 

“I like your new outfit,” she blurted, and immediately wanted to kick herself. 

Orochimaru arched one eyebrow, and Mayuri tried not to wince. Instead, she forced herself to smile, bright and cheerful, and plowed on despite the way she felt her heart was only a few beats away from bursting right from her chest.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in such dark colors. They look good on you! The black really brings out your eyes. Are you thinking about changing the jounin uniforms to look like that, too?” She knew that she was word vomiting all over the Otokage’s chest, but she couldn’t seem to stop herself. Nerves had her wound too tightly, her mind too busy spinning to focus any attention on a brain-to-mouth filter. “Now that I think about it, I haven’t seen you at all recently. It’s been strange not to have you sitting in on our lessons anymore. Where have you been? Are you okay?”

And there it was again; the overwhelming urge to hit her head on the nearest wall until she learned how to shut the fuck up. Orochimaru was silent, watching her. He cocked his head a little further to the side, eyes narrowed, like he just couldn’t quite figure out what to make of her. 

Then, slowly, a smile spread over his features. There was something distinctly unnerving about it, as always, but at least there was still no flash of anger across his features. If anything, Mayuri might have said that he looked faintly amused. She cautiously smiled back, and reminded herself to appreciate the small favors in life, such as not being brutally slaughtered by an angry snake-man.

“It seems we do have some catching up to do. How has your training been progressing, Mayuri-chan?”

“It’s been going well, my lord!” she said, relieved at the shift to such an easy topic. “Hiroko and I are actually some of the top-ranked students, even compared to the older kids. Tanuma-sensei and Mao-sensei have both said they were impressed with our progress.” 

It was the bare bones, the bits of information that he would likely already know. She didn’t want to attract any more attention than necessary, but somehow, it felt kind of nice to tell the leader of their village about the accomplishments she was secretly very proud of, as silly as that was. 

“You’ve done very well.” His smile was still in place, his eyes predatory as he watched her, and as he reached forward to ruffle her hair, Mayuri couldn’t help the little flush of pleasure on her face at the acknowledgement. “Have you advanced at all with your kekkei genkai?”

“Yes, I think so. Apparently my body is changing a little bit, though. Yumi thinks it’s to accommodate any changes in my bones, but I don’t know much more about it than that. I sort of just automatically _know_ where all of my bones are, and how they move and feel, if I focus hard enough.”

“Have you been given the chance to practice your abilities while I was away from the village? Have you been given the opportunity to become stronger, yet?”

Mayuri hesitated, biting her lip. She didn’t want to lie, but it also felt like saying no would be the wrong move to make. As she watched, she could see Orochimaru’s eyes assessing her, and noticed for the first time just how _hungry_ they were. Slowly, she shook her head.

“Not yet, Orochimaru-sama.”

He hummed softly, golden eyes intense as they moved slowly over her small form. Mayuri bowed her head, forcing herself to tear her gaze away from his before she could be consumed by it. She shuffled a little, uncertainty cold as it curled in her gut. 

“Your food is getting cold, my dear,” he rasped at last, one hand coming to rest on the top of her head. His touch was deceptively gentle as he ruffled her hair once more. This time, Mayuri did not lean into the touch. “Go ahead to your room. We shall see each other again soon.”

With that, he swept off down the hall, long hair fluttering behind him. Mayuri watched him, lips pursed with her confusion, until he turned a corner and disappeared. Still, she hesitated, halfway expecting him to suddenly reappear before her like the ghost she had once thought he was. 

After a long moment, Mayuri heaved a soft sigh and continued to her room, shoving her discomfort and rapidly-spiraling thoughts to the back of her mind, to be dealt with later. The door to the bedroom was closed, and after a second of hesitation, she knocked. Silence was the only response she received, so she shifted to balance the tray with one hand, and pushed the door open.

“Honey,” she called softly, eyes sweeping the room. “I’m home.”

She smiled when she caught sight of Hiroko, splayed out on her bed. Her mouth was hanging open, limbs twisted into what had to be very uncomfortable positions, and her blankets in a pile on the stone floor. Apparently, she had really needed a nap.

Sometimes, it was so easy to forget the fact that, no matter how old their consciousnesses might be, their bodies were still only five years old. Just like any other little kid, they were both subject to becoming ridiculously grumpy when they were tired. Mayuri just hoped that her sister’s nap would be enough to prevent any more temper tantrums tonight.

She set the tray down on the floor, next to the blankets, then settled herself on the edge of the bed. Gently, she nudged Hiroko’s shoulder, and smiled when her sister grumbled and rolled over. There was drool on her cheek.

“Hiro, wake up.” Another shake, this time a little rougher. “I brought you food. Come on, it’s time to get up. You need to eat something.”

Mismatched eyes fluttered open, bleary and searching. Mayuri smiled down at her sister, and felt warm relief blossom in her chest when Hiroko offered a sleepy smile in return. 

“I brought you food,” she repeated, dipping to retrieve the tray and place it in Hiroko’s lap as she sat up and readjusted herself. “Dosu picked it out, and he wanted me to tell you that he’s really, _really_ sorry that he was so snippy with you earlier.”

“Why didn’t he come to tell me himself?” Hiroko asked around a mouthful of food, eyes darting up to give Mayuri a _look._

“His mom came home. She wanted to hang out with him for a while since she’s gonna have to leave again pretty soon.”

Hiroko grunted and returned her attention to her lukewarm ramen. Apparently, that was a good enough reason for her for Dosu to not have come to apologize in person. She understood just as well as Mayuri did that, no matter how envious she was that Dosu had a mom, she really couldn’t begrudge him for it, or for him choosing to spend time with her over them.

Mayuri watched her sister eat in silence for a moment before turning away. Her eyes were unfocused, just barely aware of the shadows of the torches dancing across the walls as she lost herself to thought. She did her best to picture the look on Orochimaru’s face, to figure out what that hint of fascination and that awful hunger could mean, and what could be coming. She turned his words over in her mind, careful and assessing. 

By the time she turned her attention back to her sister, Hiroko was nearly finished with her dinner, picking at the rice with a frown. Mayuri watched her eat the last mouthful, chewing like the cold rice had personally offended her. She wet her lips, cleared her throat, and when Hiroko’s bored gaze met her own, Mayuri spoke up.

“I think Orochimaru wants our bodies.”

Hiroko stopped chewing, going horribly still as she processed the words. Mayuri watched the expressions flit across her face, horror and confusion and something unreadable all vying for space across her features. Then, her expression smoothed out, controlled so carefully that Mayuri automatically knew that she was doing her best to fight back an anxiety attack. 

Hiroko finished chewing, each tiny movement carefully controlled. She swallowed, then pursed her lips, deep in thought. Mayuri waited, dreading what her sister might say. After a too-long moment, she met Mayuri’s gaze evenly.

“Give it 15 years, and he won’t be the only one. We’re gonna grow up to be fucking hot.”

Mayuri choked on her spit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lmao how does one write Orochimaru? I have no clue.
> 
> Well, welcome back to another chapter. It's been rough irl lately. I just lost my grandpa, and since I'm living with my grandma right now, it's been very difficult emotionally. I want to give a special shout out to Karaeir, who left some beautiful comments and indulged my ramblings. 
> 
> To be honest, one of the only reasons I'm trying to continue writing this atm is because of the lovely comments that have been left on this work. So please, if you want to see more anytime soon, drop a review. Each one is appreciated more than I can ever properly articulate.
> 
> Thanks and I hope you enjoyed.


	21. Look Towards the Future

Otogakure was a tiny village, almost exclusively composed of highly skilled shinobi and whatever family they might have. As such, chores that other villages might consider D-Rank missions were handed out on a rotating schedule to the academy students instead of the actual shinobi, and the small number of genin were generally assigned C-Rank missions soon after their graduation from the academy. The thought was that, with the academy students handling the small chores, they would be gaining valuable experience following orders and working with a team on top of freeing the responsibilities from shinobi whose skills were better suited for other tasks; two birds, one stone.

Tanuma could appreciate the thought. It was innovative and used every resource available to the village wisely, allowing for a practical learning experience while also benefitting Otogakure. In theory, it was a marvelous idea.

In practice, it was a mess and he wanted nothing more than to march right up to the Otokage and tell him _exactly_ why it was a stupid idea to allow teams of rowdy, excitable, easily distractible children into a kitchen with only one teenage sensei to supervise. He feared and respected Orochimaru-sama far too much, though, so he help his tongue and opted instead to suffer in silence as he resigned himself to yet another day of stopping kids from sticking their hands into boiling water or crying when they had to slaughter their first animal.

Much to his surprise, though, he found himself with a little unexpected help in keeping at least a few of the groups in line this time around.

“What are you doing?” a small voice lisped, sounding more exasperated than even he felt. He watched, trying to keep himself from laughing, as Kaguya Hiroko ushered a boy four years older than her away from the oven. The other girl on their team laughed as the boy stared on incredulously as Hiroko chided him. “You can’t just grab it! You need hotpads.” 

It was apparent how irritated the little girl was getting. Her face was bright red, sweat beading on her forehead from the heat that radiated from the oven she and her team were working at. She struggled with the weight of the dish as she pulled it out, then snapped at her teammates to grab mitts of their own and help her. 

“You can’t order us around!” the boy, Taro, snarled. “You’re not the team leader.”

“Well maybe if you stopped acting so useless I wouldn’t have to order you around!”

Tanuma rolled his eyes and allowed himself a small, rueful smile. He knew that it would benefit the Kaguya twins and Kinuta Dosu to be split up in order to build relationships with their peers and learn how to better socialize with others. It was the right move to make, and a decision that would benefit them all in the long run. That conviction and planning for the future did nothing to stop the headache he was developing now, though. 

Hiroko had started out the D-Rank reserved, gentle in her corrections, willing to stand in the background and allow her older teammates to do as they saw fit. However, it wasn’t long before she grew tired of waiting for her teammates to get their assignments done. She took command with ease, transitioning power from Taro so smoothly that Tanuma was fairly certain the boy hadn’t even noticed he wasn’t in charge any longer. For a brief time, Tanuma theorized that she might make a good squad leader in the future. 

It only took a few hours for him to revise the thought. When her teammates followed her instructions and were respectful, Hiroko was an extremely capable leader. While it was true that she handled the responsibility remarkably well for a child her age and had a certain charm that led to others listening to her without hesitation, as soon as she lost her temper, all of that flew out the window. 

He watched as she snapped at her teammates, words like acid, eyes sparking. She was what his mother would have called a spitfire, with a sharp tongue and fiery temper to match. One day, when she learned to curb her temper, it was apparent that she would become a talented kunoichi and a capable leader. One day she would be able to lead a team, though the only way he could see that successfully happening was if it was a team that deferred to her without question. Seeing how quickly she was advancing in her lessons, along with her unspoken prodigy status, he had no doubt that it wouldn’t be difficult to find shinobi that would follow her very willingly in the future. 

As things were now, though, he knew that she would only be able to lead a team that was significantly younger than her. Considering that she and her sister were currently the youngest students in the academy, she likely wouldn’t be officially leading any D-Ranks for a few years yet. 

Even with how irritated she was, though, Hiroko still seemed to take her team’s safety very seriously. Tanuma was more than a little grateful, though he would never say so out loud. It was one less thing he had to worry about, and despite her young age and flashbomb-like temper, he trusted Hiroko to handle the others. At least until she gave up and stormed out. He would enjoy the respite from responsibility while it lasted. 

With a shake of his head, he turned his attention away. On the other side of the industrial-sized kitchen, Dosu was working easily with his own team. It was no surprise that he was commanding the others with ease; he had shown promise since his first day at the academy. With the private teachings of his mother and the easy way he handled the Kaguya twins and interacted with his classmates, he was already marked for future squad leader training. Once they got past his appearance, his peers seemed to get along with him just fine and had no problems deferring to him.

What did surprise Tanuma, though, was the fact that Mayuri had taken command of her own team. It had been nowhere near as smooth as Hiroko’s transition of power, but Mayuri had more long-term success. The elder twin had always seemed content to stand in the background; to follow orders quickly, efficiently, and without argument—although if she had been riled up by her sister or Dosu, one could expect a dryly sarcastic remark or two, subtly insubordinate, but somehow always able to avoid getting in trouble for it. He had had her pegged for a support position; a remarkable but ultimately obedient and unobtrusive shadow.

Instead, as soon as she became visibly exasperated with how the two boys on her team were handling their assignments, she stepped up and took charge of the situation like she had been born to do it. She was attentive when listening to their complaints, and worked to resolve the issue either through gentle means or by snapping out orders and reprimands in a tone Tanuma had only ever heard mothers use. It was almost funny, watching the two boys cower from the tiny creature before them and scramble to obey each time her eyes flashed or her voice became sharp. 

He made a mental note to add these newest observations to their files, then turned his attention towards another group. It was perfect timing, because it looked like they started a small fire and were too busy arguing over what to do about it to actually put it out. Tanuma let the frustration he felt bleed into his expression, and stormed over to put fear into the hearts of the three miscreants who apparently didn’t care whether or not they burned the entire base down.

An hour later, after enough barely-edible food had been cooked for the shinobi forces of Otogakure to have their dinner, the class sat in a circle for their parting discussions. Unsurprisingly, Dosu and the Kaguya twins found their way to one another again and were sitting knee-to-knee, disregarding the children around them like they _hadn’t_ just spent a good five hours doing various difficult tasks with new people. 

It would apparently take much more than that to get those three to branch out and form bonds with more of their classmates. Tanuma sighed, putting those thoughts on the backburner for the time being and turning his attention to the task at hand, instead.

“Now that you’ve had the experience of working with teams and completing missions, do any of you have any thoughts on what kind of shinobi you might like to be when you get older?” 

There was soft murmuring amongst the older students, and he saw more than one roll their eyes. He asked the same question every time there were new students completing their first D-Ranks, and expected answers from _everyone_ each time, no matter how many missions they had been on. They weren’t pleased with it, but they could suck it up. It was good for them to seriously consider such things, after all. 

Without prompting any further, a hand shot up high. Tanuma could always count on at least a couple of students to be excited to talk about their futures. It wasn’t always a good thing.

“Oh, pick me sensei!” 

He repressed a sigh, and instead plastered a smile on. “Yes, Kenichi-kun. Go ahead.”

The boy grinned, and immediately launched into a long-winded monologue of how, when he grew up, he would become the captain of all the jounin through his skill and dedication to the village. It had been endearing the first time, but Kenichi gave the same speech each time it was his turn on the D-Rank rotation. It got a little longer every time he told it, and a lot more embellished. 

Still, Tanuma forced himself to smile indulgently and nod along. He watched the other students’ faces grow bored, their eyes distant or annoyed. At least he didn’t have to feel too bad, since he wasn’t the only one who regretted his policy of making sure everyone spoke.

His gaze zeroed in on the Kaguya twins, who had their heads together, whispering. He watched Mayuri as she quickly covered her mouth to stifle a giggle, and saw Dosu dig an elbow into Hiroko’s ribs. It was impossible to tell what the boy was feeling, but Tanuma figured that he must have been at least a little annoyed with the girls. 

As soon as Kenichi was finished speaking, Tanuma smiled. 

“Thank you for that. It is a very inspiring aspiration. Now, Mayuri-chan, since you had no problem chatting during Kenichi-kun’s turn, how about you go next?” 

Mayuri’s cheeks turned pink with shame, the color bright against the colorless backdrop of her hair. She stuttered out a quick apology, barely able to find the right words around the embarrassment of being called out in front of the class. He watched her panic and struggle until Hiroko leaned in to whisper something into her ear. It was almost funny to watch the micro expressions she made as she worked to come up with an answer.

“When I grow up, I’ll be the next Otokage,” she blurted at last, the words tumbling from her mouth in a rush. As soon as she said them, though, her eyes went wide and her face flushed an impossibly darker shade of red. 

Silence met her words. Even Tanuma couldn’t quite find anything to say. In all the times he’d held this particular discussion, he’d never had anyone make that declaration. It wasn’t unusual to have a child want to become the strongest in the village, but Otogakure was so new, and Orochimaru cut such an imposing figure that most of the children of Otogakure never considered a future in which he might not be Otokage any longer. 

Hiroko smacked her sister on the shoulder, hard enough that it made an audible _slap._ She looked resigned, but after a second, a playful smile lit her features. 

“Well, if she’s going to become Otokage some day, I guess I’ll have to work hard to keep up! Who’s the second in command, again? The head medic, right? I guess that means I’ll just have to take Kabuto-san’s position in the future!”

“Then I’ll become the head of the Otokage’s personal guard,” Dosu announced before Tanuma could come up with anything to say. Though his tone was inordinately grave for such a young boy, Tanuma noted that he sounded quite fond and there was a twinkle in his eyes as he glanced at the sisters. 

Tanuma smiled, made another mental note to record their answers in their personal files, and then resigned himself to listening to the rest of the children all announce their own intents to become Otokage as well for the rest of the discussion.

.

“I think you’re getting better at this,” Hiroko said, rubbing thoughtfully at her seal. 

Kaito huffed out a soft laugh, smiling indulgently at the little girl as she twisted to look over her shoulder at him. The circular seal stood out in stark contrast against her shoulder, a red so dark it was nearly black against skin that hadn’t seen sunshine in two years. 

“Thank you. I have been at the practice for a handful of decades, so I would hope my work might improve with a bit of practice,” he teased, and watched her face scrunch up as she giggled.

“It won’t hurt this time?” Mayuri asked, her voice soft and nervous. Kaito turned towards where the girl was settled onto her own bed, legs pulled tight to her chest. She smiled when their eyes met, bright and cheerful, almost enough to draw attention away from the tension of her shoulders. He admired the ways she tried to be brave.

“I promise that I’ll do my best, Mayuri-chan.”

As Hiroko readjusted her shirt, Mayuri shuffled into a more comfortable position and turned so that Kaito had access to the seal. It was a deep blue color, twisting up her spine like a creeping vine, sigils and kanji bordering it. His goal for the night was to make it smaller and more contained, so eventually both girls could wear the seals instead of having them directly applied to their bodies. Their chakra systems would be permanently stunted if the current method of sealing continued for much longer and neither he nor Orochimaru wanted that, but there were also too many risks that went along with allowing such young children free reign of powerful kekkei genkai to allow them to go without seals altogether.

Kaito tried to be gentle as his fingers kneaded the third knob of her spine, finding the seal’s matrix and tugging at it gently. It flared to life, a slight glow that became increasingly brighter as he drew it out, a shimmering cord of manipulated chakra that hung between his hands, connected by ephemeral threads to her back. It pulsed and moved like a living thing. Mayuri shuddered as he tweaked the seal, goosebumps rising along her flesh.

“I’m going to remove the seal entirely,” he told her gently, watching the way her shoulders lost their tension. The removal of the seal was generally a painless process, after the initial rush of unsealed chakra settled down. “Are you ready?”

At Mayuri’s nod, he overwhelmed the seal with his own chakra, severing her connection to it in a split second. She shivered as her chakra began circulating normally again, rubbing idly at her arms like one might do to warm themselves up. With that taken care of, Kaito sat back and examined the seal, suspended between his hands. 

It wouldn’t take much to contain it further, to make it smaller and less directly connected to her chakra system. In many ways, the sisters’ seals were very similar. The differences in their innate natures and the effects those had on the composition of the seals were the only reason he couldn’t apply the same seal to both of the girls.

“Kaito-san?” 

“Just a moment, please, Mayuri-chan. I need to concentrate on this.”

He felt, more than saw, as Hiroko moved to stand behind him. She peered curiously over his shoulder, tiny hands resting lightly on his back to help her keep her balance. As the glowing seal rapidly expanded and retracted with his careful manipulations, she giggled. He was reminded of when his own granddaughter had done the exact same thing, enthralled and delighted by the way a seal in its base state looked in the hands of a master. That had been just a matter of days before she had been killed, along with everyone else he had ever held dear.

He sighed and the seal wavered, flickering like a candle in the wind. He would need to reign in his thoughts and emotions, or else they would affect the composition of Mayuri’s seal. He ignored Hiroko as she tugged lightly at his shirt, obviously wanting attention.

“Kaito-san?”

He frowned, wondering what had gotten into the girls. Usually, they were far more patient and mature than this, understanding after countless sessions that working with seals required his utmost attention. The tugging became more insistent. He heard Mayuri make a choked sound, like someone biting back a cry.

“ _Kaito!_ Something is wrong!”

Hiroko’s words were almost lost beneath the sudden sound of Mayuri’s screams. Kaito leapt to his feet immediately, letting the delicate seal collapse. He saw her convulse, watched the way her skin bulged and split, saw the white of bone beneath the red of blood and muscle. It exploded from her side, her arms, the back of her neck. 

He had heard the tales of the other children, the ones who could not survive the Shikotsumyaku experiments. He had seen their bodies, after, skewered from the inside-out with their own bones. Kabuto had warned him about what had happened before, and the truth of how Emi had died. He already knew that there was nothing he could do to save Mayuri.

Without a second thought, he scooped Hiroko up as she tried to shove past him to get to Mayuri. She shrieked as he turned and left the room, tiny fists beating against his chest as she twisted and squirmed, screaming her sister’s name. Kaito felt his heart clench, but ignored Hiroko’s desperate cries and Mayuri’s screaming as he shut the door firmly behind him. 

“You don’t need to see this,” he said, holding onto her a little tighter.

From behind the door, Mayuri’s screams became louder, more desperate. He could hear the fear in them just as clearly as he could the agony. Kaito felt tears spring to his eyes.

In the two years he had known them, he had come to love them. They were nearly as precious to him as his own grandchildren had been, once. In many ways, he even considered himself responsible for them; he had been the one to create the seal that brought them back into this world, after all. To hear Mayuri suffering, to know that he could do _nothing_ to help her, and to know that she was going to die in such a horrific way, was horrible. He could hardly imagine how Hiroko must be feeling. 

The minutes passed by, and eventually, the little girl stopped fighting against his hold. She hung limp in his arms, sobbing brokenly. It was apparent that she had figured out what was happening.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “but there’s nothing either of us could have done.”

“I hate you,” she whispered, so soft her words almost disappeared amongst the agonized echoes all around them. _“I hate you.”_

Kaito didn’t say anything back. The screaming stopped. Silence filled the hallways for a long moment, and it seemed as though the absence of sound echoed all around them just as the screams had.

“I need to get a medic to remove her body,” he murmured, mostly to himself. 

“No! You don’t know that she’s dead! We have to go in there!”

“Hiroko-chan, I’ve seen this before. Unsealing her chakra...it triggered something. You saw her. You know that she couldn’t have survived that.” 

“ _SHUT UP!_ Just _shut up!_ She’s not dead. She’s _not!_ We have to help her!”

Hiroko squirmed, fighting against his hold again with twice as much force. He already knew he would have innumerable bruises in the shape of her tiny fists. Still, he did not release her and tried not to allow his heart to splinter further as she screamed for Mayuri, her voice breaking.

“Hiroko...” he tried again, only to pause as he felt a flare of chakra. He turned, brow furrowing as Kabuto rounded the corner. He inclined his head, half from respect, and half to hide the way that his eyes glistened with tears. 

“I heard a commotion,” the boy said as he came closer. There was something cold in his eyes that Kaito could see even half-hidden as they were behind his glasses. “What happened?”

“When Mayuri’s seal was removed, I believe that the release of chakra triggered some kind of reaction. Her bones began to break through her skin. I know that you’ve seen it before. I don’t know if she—”

“No! Kabuto, please! She’s not dead. You have to help her!” Hiroko’s voice was thick with tears, her eyes bright with her desperation. 

Kabuto stared at her for a long second, his head cocked curiously to the side, his face perfectly blank. Then, without a word, he brushed past them and into the eerily silent room. The door slammed shut behind him.

Hiroko was limp in Kaito’s arms, her tiny form trembling and her breaths coming in sharp little gasps. Not for the first time, the seal master didn’t know what to say to soothe her. So he said nothing, and they waited in silence. After a few moments, the girl’s shaking stopped. Kaito looked down at her, only to find her staring back. The expression on her features made his stomach twist.

Her eyes were narrowed and sharp, glinting in the low light with a kind of intense fury he had never seen on a child so young. Sometimes it was so easy to forget that these two girls had been marked as prodigies, and that they were being trained already to become shinobi; to become killers. Looking into Hiroko’s eyes, Kaito was reminded.

“I’m sorry,” he tried again. “There’s nothing I could have done for her. If we had stayed, there is a good chance one of us could have been killed by those bones. Mayuri wouldn’t have wanted that, right? She wouldn’t have wanted you to be hurt.”

Aside from the disdainful curl of her lips as she snarled, Hiroko made no indication that she had heard him. Her eyes were icy and sharp, glinting in the flickering torchlight. 

“If she’s dead, I will _never_ forgive you.” 

There was a promise in her words and a threat in the glint of her eyes. Kaito nodded solemnly, accepting it. His shoulders bowed, and for the first time in years, he felt the weight of his age and the loss of so many he considered family settle firmly upon his shoulders. 

They were silent until the door opened again. Kabuto stared at them for a long moment, blood on his hands and the knees of his pants. His face was perfectly blank, even when he spoke.

“Mayuri is still alive. I will be taking her to the medical wing for further examination.”

There was a heartbeat of shocked silence. Then Hiroko began sobbing again, and Kaito released a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding. He nodded.

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

Kabuto met his eyes purposefully, then slowly looked towards Hiroko. Kaito got the message easily enough. He nodded, maneuvering the little girl to rest on his hip. Despite her words just seconds ago, she immediately buried her face in his shoulder, nothing more than a terrified and hurting little girl in need of some comfort.

“Come on, Hiroko-chan,” he murmured, trying to keep his tone light, his voice gentle. “I’ll teach you something about seals, and when you’re really good at them, you won’t need me anymore. How does that sound?”

She ignored his words even as she clutched a handful of his shirt in her tiny fist even tighter. He sighed and petted her hair gently, wishing he could do more to comfort her. As he walked away, he didn’t look back; if there was anything that could be done, Kabuto would do it. He could only hope that the boy’s skills would be enough to save Mayuri.

.

“It’s impressive that she’s still alive, really.”

The child bit back a sob, and the exposed bone of her legs clattered against the metal examination table as she convulsed. Kabuto glanced at her from over his clipboard, then turned away. Against the far wall, a glimmering figure watched with narrowed eyes.

“I presume you have discovered the reason for… _this.”_

The figure gestured vaguely to indicate the writhing child and the bones that were poking through her skin. With each moment that passed, they seemed to shift and shrink, gradually moving closer to her small form, like they yearned to be back beneath the skin where they belonged. In a few places, they had already disappeared beneath it again, leaving gaping holes in her flesh that Kabuto had not yet bothered to heal. 

“Yes, my lord. After consulting the notes that the girls’ mother left behind on her own mother’s abilities, I believe that by blocking Mayuri-chan’s chakra, we inadvertently stunted a natural development of her kekkei genkai.”

“Which is?” he snapped, voice unusually sharp. Apparently, Orochimaru was not in the mood for games. Kabuto wondered if something had happened with the other Akatsuki members to make him so irritable, or perhaps one of his many schemes wasn’t going as well as he had hoped.

“Armor, Orochimaru-sama. Beneath her skin, covering any vulnerable areas, a thin layer of armor-like bone is forming. It would explain the shift in her pain receptors and nerve endings, as they’ve begun retreating beneath where the armor will likely form.”

“How _interesting.”_

Despite the fact that there was no visible mouth in the shadow of the hologram, it was easy to see the way Orochimaru was smiling by the dangerous glint in his golden eyes. Kabuto said nothing, turning his attention back to the charts he held, sharp eyes scanning the scattered bits of medical information and observations, theories and thoughts all intertwining to form a vague picture of what was happening beneath the little girl’s skin.

Mayuri sobbed again but Kabuto did not spare her a glance. He turned away and began searching through the locked cabinets for the correct medication to allow the girl to sleep until her body stopped changing and her chakra network reoriented itself. Once she was asleep and still, it would be much easier to take x-rays and run any necessary tests.

“Do you expect her to live through this?” Orochimaru asked, his voice a low hiss. 

Kabuto hummed a thoughtless affirmative as he stood, vial and syringe in hand. Orochimaru’s gaze flickered to the medical equipment, and his eyes flashed with what Kabuto had learned to read as amusement. He did not try to stop the administration of the sedative and within moments, Mayuri was dead to the world, her chest rising and falling steadily as her bones continued their slow evolution.

“Ensure that she does. This could prove to be quite useful in the future.”

Kabuto bowed his head, murmuring a soft, “Yes, my lord.” 

The hologram flickered out of existence with a soft buzz of static. The room felt a little brighter in its absence, like the jutsu had been absorbing the light to sustain itself. Kabuto watched the corner where Orochimaru’s form had been flickering, and when it did not reform, he allowed himself to relax. Mayuri did not stir as he made the first incision. 

.

Mayuri had been gone for three days when Hiroko opened her eyes to find a figure standing over her in the dead of night. It was only 20-some years of experience at being a big sister that stopped her from screaming or striking out at the person who had broken into her and Mayuri’s bedroom. It was long after bedtime, but she hadn’t been sleeping well since Mayuri had been taken to the medical ward, anyways. As she squinted into the darkness, she recognized the dark shadow easily.

Hiroko pushed herself up, shifting to sit on the edge of the bed. She rubbed at her sore eyes, trying to erase the last traces of restless sleep from them. The person standing over her didn’t make a sound, just stood there, watching her in what little light the single torch offered.

“Dosu, what are you doing in here? Did you have a nightmare?”

The boy didn’t respond. He just stood there gazing down at her with an empty expression, like he wasn’t all there. His bandages were missing, and it felt wrong, somehow, to be able to see his face only for it to be void of anything at all. He was usually so expressive that it wasn’t too hard to figure out what was going on in his head, even if his features and the expression he made were a little warped. 

“You want to sleep with me tonight?” she asked gently, scooting back onto the bed and lifting the covers. After only a very brief hesitation, Dosu clambered in beside her, forcing her almost flush against the wall in the process. She sighed and wriggled herself into a more comfortable position, but did not complain.

She stroked his messy tufts of dark hair, humming a half-remembered tune. Which life it might have been from, she didn’t know. That bothered her, but she pushed it swiftly aside in favor of focusing on comforting the boy who was as close to a best friend as she could hope to have in this world. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked, after minutes had ticked by and he had not yet fallen asleep. His breathing hitched, and she quickly shushed him, soft and soothing. “You don’t have to, if you don’t want to. It’s okay, I’m here.”

For a long time, neither of them made a sound. Hiroko listened to Dosu’s shallow breaths, waiting for them to even out, to show that he had at last drifted off to sleep once more. He was usually able to fall asleep after a nightmare when he came to sleep with Hiroko and Mayuri, soothed by the presence of other human beings instead of being left alone in the room he was supposed to share with his mom. Even if it was only Hiroko tonight, she was confident that it wouldn’t be long until he was sound asleep.

It never happened. Instead, his breaths began to shake and wheeze, turning to whimpers, and then outright sobs. Hiroko went stiff with worry, automatically pulling him closer to her chest. He was shaking violently, and his broken sobs cut a path straight to her heart. She had never seen him cry like this.

“What’s wrong, honey? Dosu, come on, talk to me.” 

She sat up, pulling him with her. He buried his face in his hands, hunched over like the entire weight of the world was resting solely upon his tiny shoulders. Hiroko pulled him close again, and he folded into her arms, burying his face in her chest. His tears soaked through her thin nightshirt in seconds.

“What’s wrong?” she asked again, beginning to feel more desperate, more panicked. She wished that Mayuri was here. 

“My mom,” he whispered at last, his voice more rough than she had ever heard it before, soft and broken and maybe a little bit empty. Hiroko knew what he was going to say even before he managed to gasp out, “her mission. It...it didn’t….” He took a deep, shuddering breath. “She’s dead. My mom is _dead.”_

Hiroko didn’t say anything. She knew all too well what it felt like to lose family. First it was her sister, and then a mother she had only had three years but still loved desperately along with every single person she had ever known, all in one fell swoop. Even though she knew what Dosu was going through, any words she could find seemed empty and fake, so she didn’t say anything at all. She just held him tighter, trying to offer him what little comfort she could even as she buried her face in his hair and felt her own tears slip down her cheeks.

Dosu’s mother had always been so kind, so strong and beautiful. Whenever she was home, she was so devoted and loving, and always welcomed her son’s best friends with open arms and a breathtaking smile. She had been one of the top kunoichis of Otogakure, a village that had been made of only the strongest of shinobi, and not even she survived past the age of thirty. 

As Hiroko sang softly and rocked Dosu as he cried, she felt dread creep into her heart. She thought about Mayuri, all alone in some hospital bed, and of Dosu, now an orphan just like them. What would happen to her best friend, now that his mother wasn’t around to protect him? If even the strongest could die so young, what did that mean for the three of them?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long to get out! I hope you enjoyed it despite its lateness. Let me know what you think! Thank you!!!


	22. Chapter 22

It was deemed too dangerous to allow Mayuri to leave the medical ward right away. Her chakra was still unstable and Kabuto thought that strong emotions or pain might trigger another surge. He assured her, though, that with the seals removed her networks would sort themselves out naturally, sooner instead of later. In the meantime, seeing as she couldn’t leave the medical ward anyways, they were focusing on other more superficial things. 

Her wounds had been healed, but they left behind a mess of scars. One of the medics, a man named Daisuke, was working to make them disappear. He was a specialist from Grass Country, who had apparently been offered a place in Otogakure just for his skills in this regard alone.

According to the medic, having such a mess made of her flesh would limit her options as a kunoichi when she got older. He hadn’t elaborated any further, despite her requests for clarification, but she could guess what a kunoichi might need her body for later in life. That, and if her suspicions about Orochimaru’s intentions proved to be right, she wouldn’t put it past him to want a host body that wasn’t ridden with scars. Both options made her a little sick to consider, though, so she mostly just pretended she didn’t have a clue. She was good at pretending, after all.

Sessions with Daisuke happened once a day, and usually lasted two to three hours. During those sessions, which were relatively painless and thus deemed low risk, Hiroko was allowed to visit her. Another shinobi always stood by the whole time – Kabuto seemed to want to be the one there, on the rare occasions that he was in-village – silently observing, as though they could somehow stop the bones that she could still occasionally feel moving beneath her skin from hurting anyone else. Mayuri was grateful for the additional presence, even if it would probably be futile if her body decided to betray her once again.

“Dosu moved into our room,” Hiroko informed her, sounding a little distracted. She was watching Daisuke work with sharp eyes, taking in each minute movement and the way Mayuri’s skin would bulge grotesquely as bones or scar tissue reacted to the foreign chakra.

“Makes sense. You two are best friends, and there’s an empty bed now. I guess we can always count on the Otokage to know just how to use all his resources wisely.” Mayuri’s voice was sugary sweet, but her eyes were dull and her features empty. Neither of the present shinobi were in positions where they could see her face at that moment, and though she knew it was foolish, she simply didn’t have the energy to keep up the cheerful mask. 

Hiroko hummed thoughtfully. Despite the lessons they received on ridding themselves of tells, she was fidgeting, chewing her lips and wringing her hands. She seemed nervous, like she wasn’t quite sure how to act. Mayuri couldn’t really blame her—for all her sister’s bravado, it had always been obvious that Kabuto made her jittery simply by being in the same room. Now, he was watching them with narrowed eyes, like he was just waiting for something to happen.

“You never really used your bed, anyways,” Hiroko mumbled. “You can just keep sharing with me when you come back.”

Mayuri smiled, though it was a sad thing. Hiroko pretended not to notice, her smile stretching thin and her eyes far too old in her young face. They both knew that it would be a long time before Mayuri would be able to come back to their room. (They both refused to acknowledge the little voices in their heads that whispered, _“If she comes back._ ”)

“Classes are the same old thing for me,” Hiroko informed her suddenly, obviously searching for a change of subject, something to keep the conversation flowing as normally as it could. “They’re more boring without you there, though. Dosu can be a real stick in the mud.”

“Are you saying that I’m not?” Mayuri asked, the first hint of a smile twitching at the corners of her lips. Hiroko shook her head vigorously. 

“That’s not what I’m saying at all. If anything, you’re an even bigger stick in the mud. But when it’s the three of us, you two sort of focus your boringness on each other instead of me.” 

Mayuri gasped, and if her arms hadn’t been captured in Daisuke’s firm grasp, she would have clutched at her heart like it was breaking. Hiroko pouted theatrically, crossing her arms over her chest and slumping in her seat. Though he didn’t remove his focus from his work, Daisuke laughed softly, amused by their antics, and Mayuri could feel the warmth of his chakra as it slipped beneath her damaged skin, all the way down past her bones. Even though it had been disconcerting at first, the sensation was actually rather pleasant once she got used to it.

“Did I tell you that Daisuke-san has been explaining the basics of medical chakra to me?” Mayuri asked, catching the way that Hiroko’s eyes had strayed once again to trace the jagged, ugly scar that ran almost the entire length of her arm. “Kabuto-san has also said that I can start learning some of the easier techniques, once my chakra stabilizes.” 

“Oh yeah?” Hiroko murmured back, her eyes not leaving the delicate green glow that was spreading over Mayuri’s skin, brightest along the scar tissue. “That’s good. Maybe you can teach me what you learn. Maybe I—”

She cut herself off with a sudden shake of her head. At last, her eyes moved back up to meet Mayuri’s own and the girls smiled at one another, warm and a little sad. After a split second, though, Hiroko’s mismatched eyes became glassy, filling with tears. Mayuri’s smile faltered, concern flaring in her chest. Hiroko was known to cry at almost anything, whether it was out of joy or anger or sorrow, but Mayuri couldn’t figure out what might have set her sister off this time. She leaned forwards as far as she could so she could lower her voice, allowing them the illusion of privacy despite the two shinobi in the room with them. 

“What’s the matter, Hiro?” she asked, her voice laced with concern and her heart clenching in her chest.

Hiroko turned away, lower lip trembling. She shook her head, and refused to answer, no matter how much Mayuri probed. Eventually, they simply moved on to other topics, pretending like there weren’t tears collecting on Hiroko’s eyelashes. 

.

It was another two weeks before Mayuri was allowed to leave the medical ward, or the watchful eyes of the various medics she had been assigned to. She was allowed to eat her meals with the rest of Otogakure’s populace, happily sharing a table with Dosu and Hiroko. Despite this newest inkling of freedom, her bed was still in the ward where she could be monitored, and she wasn’t allowed to join the other children for their lessons. That did not mean that her lessons stopped, of course.

In a private cavern just off the ward, they continued on the same strict schedule as they had before. Without other children to pace herself with, though, she found it much harder to gauge where she was supposed to be developmentally. Whenever her senseis watched her with unreadable expressions, or corrected her forms with smiles stretched too tight across their faces, she felt her heart sink with worry. If she was too slow or too clumsy, not good enough, what would happen to her?

It was during dinner one night that Hiroko told her about her own private lessons. Twice a week, an old Yuki woman came to visit and to teach Hiroko the techniques and history of the clan, and to help her learn how to master her abilities. She couldn’t figure out if the old woman was there under duress or not. Despite obvious uncertainty, she was always quietly cheerful, if exceedingly stern, while teaching Hiroko how to wield her powers. 

Mayuri smiled as her sister told her about her lessons and all she was learning. She asked questions and expressed her amazement at the progress her sister had made. From across the table she watched Hiroko’s eyes light up, her cheeks flush with excitement. She watched Dosu’s small smiles (the ones that only she and Hiroko could see and understand, now that his mother was dead) and the way he pressed close to Hiroko’s side, and how she didn’t shove him away. Mayuri’s smile grew wider, her eyes softer, and she forced herself to ignore any twinge of darker thoughts. 

She was happy for her sister. She really, truly was. Hiroko was growing, getting the chance to learn more about one of the two parts of the bloodline that would define her in this world, slowly but surely growing more powerful. She would be able to survive in this world with or without Mayuri by her side. It was a good thing, because they wouldn’t be able to be by one another’s side every moment, as Mayuri’s forced hospitalization readily proved. 

(Mayuri was terrified at the thought of living without her sister. She was horrified at what Hiroko growing more and more powerful, drawing attention to herself through her abilities and intelligence, might mean for her little sister. And though she didn’t want to admit it, the thought of Hiroko being perfectly happy without her was what scared her the most.)

That night, curled up in bed, alone but for the muffled sounds of whirring machinery and the occasional scream of the wounded, Mayuri buried her face in her mattress and cried herself to sleep. She felt hollow and cold inside, and she didn’t know why. All she knew was that with each passing day and every strained smile or secretive glance a medic or sensei sent her way, the feeling that something horrific loomed before her grew stronger; Every time she realized that Hiroko was growing, progressing, and leaving her behind, the feeling of emptiness inside her chest only grew.

.

Another month passed before she was allowed to practice her kekkei genkai. Her chakra was stable enough that Kabuto was mostly certain that she wouldn’t end up skewering herself from the inside out, and she had learned enough from her medical lessons that she would at least be able to keep herself from dying before she found a medic. Her overall control and endurance when dealing with chakra was still shit, but she was assured that it would get better over time.

Most of the time she practiced alone. Occasionally, though, when their lessons lined up, she was allowed to be in the same training room as Hiroko and her Yuki-sensei. Those were both the best and the worst times because, though she got the chance to see her sister more, she was also reminded of just how far Hiroko had progressed and how far she was still lagging behind in comparison.

Mayuri watched them from her place against the wall, trying not to let herself be consumed by the spark of jealousy she felt. It was hard, knowing that there would never be anyone available to teach her how to master her abilities. Shikotsumyaku was a rare ability to possess, and with her grandmother dead, she was the last one known to hold it. Even if the rest of the Kaguya clan didn’t think they were dead (and if they hadn’t been the ones to kill them in the first place) she doubted anyone would have been able or willing to help her learn. It was a strangely isolating sort of feeling. 

She kept her mouth shut, though, and just did her best to focus on regrowing her arm bones. There was a steadily growing pile of bone beside her, an assortment of ribs and tibias and knuckle bones glowing pale and ghostly in the dim lights. Her body was a mess of indented flesh and torn skin. After each session, if she didn’t go directly to a medic, her skin would stay a field of horrible scars and her remaining normally-functioning nerve endings would probably be permanently damaged. 

Strangely enough, while her flesh tore and bled as she pulled them out, blood didn’t seem to stick to the bones themselves. She was glad that after those first half dozen lessons she had stopped throwing up at the sight and sensation of pulling her own bones out of her body. It was easier to concentrate on the task when she wasn’t losing her lunch all over the stone floor. 

From the center of the room, she heard Hiroko make a wordless noise of frustration. There was frost creeping out from her in whirling patterns and ice shimmering in the air around her like tiny, fragmented mirrors. Mayuri stared, head cocked thoughtfully to the side as she surveyed the scene. It looked like her sister wasn’t hurt or anything; just frustrated that she couldn’t get whatever technique they were working on to go right. Still, there was something about the mirrors surrounding her that made another vague memory try to push its way through Mayuri’s subconscious. She couldn’t quite seem to grasp it, though. 

She sighed and shook her head, trying to clear it. She was sure if she just thought about it for a few days the memories would come to her. They usually did, if she cared enough to really focus on retrieving them. The problem was, she usually totally forgot what she was trying to remember in the first place. 

She pushed a few more bones from the tips of her fingers, the tiny bones clattering loudly to the floor. She raised her hand to look more closely at her fingertips, ignoring the misshapen flesh and the way it squirmed as the bones began growing back in favor of examining her fingernails. When she saw the black, deadened state they were all in, she groaned loudly and let her head thump against the wall. Not only did the sight always send her stomach churning, but she had actually been _proud_ of how nice her nails had been, once. If she kept this up, she knew that she’d probably end up without any fingernails at all. She sighed, blowing the black ends of her hair out of her face. 

She waited until the tips had grown back, then curled her hand into a fist and focused on trying to push the base segment through her skin instead. She clenched her jaw at the surge of pain the action brought. It wasn’t any worse than anywhere else, really, but the first time manipulating a bone always felt the worst. She had a few vague theories as to why that might be, but it wasn’t something she’d ever want to mention to Orochimaru or Kabuto. She wasn’t interested in the experiments that would surely follow if they found out that there was a difference between the first and second instance of manipulating bones. Her spine was one of the only major bones she hadn’t tried to manipulate yet, and she had no doubt that they would try to get her to pull it out if they knew. Considering that the nervous system was so closely tied to it…. Well, she wasn’t really certain how Orochimaru would feel about a paralyzed ninja, but she was pretty damn sure she didn’t want to find out.

Shikotsumyaku was an experience she wasn’t sure she would ever be fully used to. It wasn’t only that she could suddenly just lose a couple bones and be okay. It was also the sensations of knowing where each bone was and where it could go, how to move and shape them and how to regrow them, and the instinctual knowledge that even if a bone wasn’t there, she would still be alright. The bones themselves would grow automatically after she forced them out into the open air, but it was a slow and painful process. She had found, though, that she could make them regrow much faster if she focused her energy there. Or chakra, she reminded herself. It wasn’t just normal energy or normal human healing processes here. It was chakra that fueled her and everyone else in this world. 

Chakra was a bitch to get used to, too. When it had been sealed away, she felt like there was something missing or like her body was strangely hollow. It had been weird and unsettling, but something she could easily ignore. The second that Kaito had unsealed it, though, her whole body had suddenly been buzzing, her bones shifting under her skin like sentient things and the chakra itself filling her until she wanted to tear her own veins out. (Then, of course, there had been the pain. She was trying to forget that part.) Even after she had been healed, that buzzing hadn’t gone away, only became more manageable. She was slowly getting used to it, but it was still a pain in the ass. 

At least one day she would be able to use it to do something cool, like spit fire or make dragons out of water. The thought made the discomfort way more bearable. She’d always wanted to be a bender, ever since watching ‘Avatar: The Last Airbender’ when she was little. If that was as good as she was going to get, she was going to take it and try to convince herself that it was close enough.

Hiroko screeched again, startling Mayuri out of her drifting thoughts. The Yuki woman’s voice rang through the room, sharp but obviously amused as she said, “I’m not sure why you’re getting so frustrated about this, Hiroko-chan. Most Yuki children don’t start learning this technique until they’re much older. For someone your age, you’re doing extraordinarily well.” 

Mayuri didn’t look up from her lap, counting the tiny finger bones that had fallen into it. There were 13 so far. She gathered them up and dropped them into the pile, listening to the hollow clinking they made as they hit the other bones and tumbled to the floor. She traced a finger idly through the blood that was spread around her in streaks and meager puddles and tried not to think about the body of the medic whose blood she had been sitting in just over two years ago. There were days when she was almost convinced that that whole ordeal had been just one of many nightmares. At times like this, though, with bones and blood surrounding her, the memories resurfaced and she could recall with horrible clarity everything that had happened. She knew it was real, even if she would rather that it wasn’t. 

“Why have you stopped practicing, child?” a voice asked, soft and far too close for comfort. 

Mayuri jumped, knocking the pile of bones over. They sounded ridiculously ominous as they went skittering out of her range of sight. She looked up to find Orochimaru looming over her, and cursed herself for not having noticed him approaching sooner. 

“Sorry, Orochimaru-sama!” she said, offering him a warm smile as she scrambled to her feet only to bow low, talking to the ground. “I was just getting sort of tired, so I guess I was zoning out there, wasn’t I? My apologies.” 

She laughed nervously, scratching the back of her neck with bloody fingertips as she straightened up. It wasn’t exactly a lie. Even just an hour of manipulating her bones drained a significant amount of her chakra and left her feeling tired and sore for days afterwards. She had learned since the beginning of her training that when she was going through chakra exhaustion she could be more than just grouchy; she was downright nasty. She had almost broken one of her sensei’s arms last time they made her fight the day after a particularly grueling training session. She had only stopped after he had cried out in pain, reminding her of her own time being tortured.

She’d learned that day that she had the ability to lock her joints, making it nearly impossible for someone to escape her hold, no matter how strong they were. It would have been a cool ability, if the memory of its discovery weren’t tainted by flashbacks of her bones being methodically broken and a woman dying with Mayuri’s own ribs shoved through her chest.

Orochimaru hummed, eyes half lidded as he stared down at her. She wished that she could tell what he was thinking. Still, she did her best to maintain her smile and just hoped that she hadn’t managed to inadvertently piss him off. 

“Yuki-san, Hiroko-chan,” he called, voice shockingly loud as it echoed throughout the chamber. The two forms in the pit stilled, turning to look at him, wary and curious. He smiled down at Mayuri, and as he spoke, his golden eyes never left her face. “I think it’s time we allowed Mayuri-chan to take center stage, don’t you?”

Mayuri felt her heartbeat pick up speed, mind already cycling through every awful, painful, and humiliating way that this could end for her. The Yuki woman nodded sharply and took Hiroko’s hand, pulling her towards the outer ring of the room. Mayuri could feel her sister’s eyes on her as she forced herself to head to the center of the room, footsteps silent as she moved over the stone floor with bare feet. 

“What would you like me to do, Orochimaru-sama?” she asked, her voice trembling ever so slightly. She hoped it wasn’t as obvious to the other occupants of the room as it was to herself. She bounced lightly on the balls of her feet, hands clenched in the fabric of her training tunic. Orochimaru watched her silently, and then, slowly, a smile spread over his face.

“It’s impossible to get better at something without practice, is it not?” he mused, voice soft and lilting. 

Mayuri didn’t respond, but slowly, the movement stopped. She stared up at him, expression open and genuinely confused. Her sudden stillness was almost eerie to see on the girl who was constantly moving in one way or another. There was something ominous in his words, but she wasn’t quite certain where he was going with it. That unknown scared her more than anything.

“What sort of practice are you thinking of, my lord?” Kabuto spoke up, startling Mayuri. She hadn’t realized he was there, too. It was rare to have both of them in the village at the same time. Orochimaru’s grin grew wider, his eyes narrowed and glowing.

“There is no one who can teach her to properly use her abilities. Such a pity.” 

As he spoke, Mayuri had the sudden image of the man dressed as the Goblin King. It wasn’t as funny as it might have been once. Kabuto’s hum of agreement was so mocking it made Mayuri’s temper flare on principle alone.

“It’s supposed to be the ultimate taijutsu ability, isn’t it?”

Looking between them, Mayuri had the sudden sinking feeling that she might just know where they were going with this.

.

Her opponent was a boy she had never seen before. He towered over her, his muscles bulging but baby fat still clinging to his face. She tried not to think about how young he was, or the fear and guilt that was gnawing at her insides before the fight even began. The dark emptiness of his eyes and the scars that crisscrossed his body told her that this boy would be playing for keeps. She wouldn’t have the luxury of refusing to give anything less than her best, no matter how much she didn’t want to hurt a child. 

She wasn’t confident that she would be able to actually win this fight, but she knew that she could survive, at the very least. That would have to be enough. She didn’t think Orochimaru would kill her if she didn’t outright win. The problem was that she also didn’t think he would stop this boy from killing her if it came down to it. 

Her kekkei genkai was more rare than Hiroko’s, but her sister had shown more prowess and natural talent for the abilities he had given her. At this point, he knew that his chemical concoctions and torture methods would work out if he had test subjects with the right genetic connections. The only thing keeping her alive was the fact that it would be troublesome to have to go back and nab a few dozen Kaguya children out from under the clan’s nose when those children were so few and far between to begin with. 

The Kaguya clan was one with a history deeply rooted in warfare, and a matriarchal clan on top of that, so few women were willing to lay down their weapons for the duration of a pregnancy. As such, not many children were born. Of the handfuls that were, even fewer survived past their first few years. Those that lived ended up heavily guarded, lest an entire generation of an already dwindling clan disappear. (Hiroko and Mayuri had been the exception to that rule. Obviously.) 

The boy took a step towards her and Mayuri took a step back, eyeing him distrustfully. She was trembling like a drawn bow, the adrenalin rushing through her already and her heart pounding hard enough that she felt lightheaded. His young face was one of grim determination, and Mayuri had the sudden realization that he had done this before. And he had come out on top.

She took a deep breath and clenched her jaw, hands curling into fists at her sides as she took a careful starting position. The boy mirrored her, stance wider and hands larger and she already knew that this was going to hurt. She could hear Hiroko’s voice, angry and desperate and scared, but she ignored the sound. Instead, she focused only on Orochimaru’s soft, self-satisfied voice as he murmured, “Begin.”

The boy rushed forward, intent on using his size and the weight he had on her to his advantage. Mayuri dodged to the side, dropping down and ducking beneath his reaching grasp, immediately rolling to get further away. She was smaller, maybe a little faster thanks to training with Hiroko so often, but he had size and experience on her. The only fighting she had done here was against other students in a relatively controlled setting, monitored by their senseis. Before, she had taken a month of grappling classes and then had to quit because of her work schedule. Sometimes, she’d wrestle with Isaac or Uriel. The one time Elle had punched her, she had backed down immediately. She’d never actually been in a _real_ fight in either life and it was going to come back to bite her in the ass now.

The boy bellowed and Mayuri drew in a sharp breath, scrambling back, never taking her eyes off of him. Her world had somehow both narrowed and widened at once. She could see every move he made, could watch each of his muscles tense when he was close enough, but somehow she was also able to catch the way Hiroko was struggling against Yuki-sensei’s firm grasp and the grim expression the woman wore. She could see the way that Kabuto’s tense form rested against the balcony and how Orochimaru reclined in his throne. Only seconds had passed since the fight had begun, but already she worried that he was growing bored with it. What would happen to her if he decided she wasn’t worth his time?

Taking a deep breath, Mayuri braced herself as the boy charged her again. He was only steps away, long legs eating up the ground between them and his eyes like dark holes in his face. Though her limbs were still trembling with adrenaline and her mind had gone all but blank, she forced herself to move. 

Reacting almost entirely on instinct, she darted to the side and spun, his hands brushing her arm as he moved to grab her. Immediately she leaped upon him, wrapping her arms around his throat and her legs around his waist, locking her ankles. It felt like an awful parody of a piggyback ride, something innocent corrupted by dark intentions. She squeezed, rolling her arm so the sharp part of the bones beneath her skin pressed across his windpipe. He wheezed, hands scrabbling at her arms, nails digging into her skin and leaving behind deep, ugly gashes. She gnashed her teeth together, resisting the urge that rose within her to sink them into the soft flesh of his vulnerable neck. 

His hands found a fistful of her loose hair and pulled, hard enough that she was nearly displaced from her position on his back. She grunted at the pain that flared from her scalp as he tore out chunks of her hair, breathing hard through her nose as she squeezed tighter. The boy made an awful sound, somewhere between a gag and a shout. She could feel something wet drip on her arm, and she didn’t want to know whether it was sweat, blood, or tears. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered into his ear as he dropped to his knees, swaying woozily as his air supply continued to be cut off. He made another noise, this one softer, more desperate. She squeezed her eyes shut and didn’t let go until he had collapsed to the ground. 

After a mere second that felt as though it stretched for forever, she forced herself to her feet and took a few shaky steps backwards, just in case the boy hadn’t really passed out. She felt shaky and nauseous, the adrenaline still pumping through her veins and trying to insist there was still danger that she had to be prepared for. That wasn’t wrong, exactly.

“That was an impressive display of taijutsu abilities,” Kabuto said, voice oily and smooth. 

She turned to look at him, crossing her arms over her chest in an attempt to hide the way her hands shook. She had no doubt that everyone had already seen it, but it made her feel better to pretend that her weaknesses and insecurities weren’t obvious to anyone watching her. 

“It was,” Orochimaru agreed. “However, she didn’t really utilize her abilities, did she?” 

Mayuri felt a chill climb her spine. Her stomach dropped to her toes and her heart leaped to her throat. She wasn’t sure where they were going with this roundabout speech, but she knew that it wasn’t going to be good. She straightened her spine, swallowed around the lump in her throat, and raised her head to look Orochimaru in the face when she spoke, hoping that her voice wouldn’t tremble.

“I’m sorry, Orochimaru-sama. I’m glad you thought my taijutsu was good. How did you, um, _want_ me to use my kekkei genkai?” 

Orochimaru shifted in his seat, crossing his legs in one elegant movement. Mayuri watched him as he rested his cheek upon his hand, awed by how fluid he made such simple movements look, even after having lived in Otogakure for almost three years. He smiled, and the lazy expression managed to look predatory upon his sharp features. 

“Tell me what _you_ think you could have done, my dear.” 

Mayuri wet her lips nervously before turning her eyes back towards the boy, who was still lying prone on the floor. She could hear his breathing, rasping and labored from the damage to his windpipe. Her scalp and arms throbbed, but she couldn’t bring herself to even be angry at her opponent. He was as much of a pawn in this as she was. 

She knew she forgot a lot of details about this world she had been thrust into, but she had never allowed herself to forget about the torture. This was their life now, so she had forced herself to think about all the horrific things that Orochimaru did within the walls of this village that had seemed so insignificant when watched on the television screen. She wondered, if she hadn’t already known about the experiments and the battle royales that went on in Orochimaru’s labs, if she would have been able to guess where this mystery boy had come from and what he had lived through. As she spoke, she didn’t take her eyes off of him.

“Without the intent to kill, I believe that I did handle it to the best of my abilities. However, in another situation, I could have used the bones in my arms to impale or slit his throat while I had him in a chokehold. I also could have used either my ribs or the bones of my legs to cause damage to his torso and inner organs while I was holding onto his back.” 

She tore her eyes away from the boy and looked instead to Orochimaru. Hiroko had gone silent and Mayuri couldn’t bring herself to look at her sister. She didn’t want to see what kind of feelings Hiroko’s mismatched eyes would show. She was always far too open with her emotions. 

“I think those would have been the best options. What do you think, Orochimaru-sama?”

“That was a very good assessment, Mayuri-chan,” he hummed, voice soft and that same tinge of amusement that seemed to be in everything he said running below the surface. He wasn’t smiling anymore. “If you were able to come up with such strategies so quickly, why didn’t you apply them to your fight?” 

“I didn’t want to hurt him!” she defended immediately, then took a deep breath, composing herself. Her mind was working in overdrive, trying to come up with reasons why. She knew the man wouldn’t be satisfied with such a simple answer as, _I didn’t want to_. He didn’t seem to have any problem with the idea of children killing each other, after all. She blinked up at him, doing her best to make her expression open and innocent, eyes wide and brow creased ever so slightly in carefully composed confusion. “After all, if he’s a part of our village, we shouldn’t be fighting each other with the intent to kill!”

Kabuto shifted away from the railing, moving to lean against the wall with his arms crossed loosely over his chest. Orochimaru’s lips curved up into a too-wide smile and Mayuri had the sinking realization that she hadn’t said the right thing. She stared up at them, eyes moving slowly between the two most powerful people in Otogakure as they looked down at her. She focused on keeping her expression open, innocently naive. There was still time for them to rethink whatever atrocities were going through their minds. She swallowed hard and forced herself to remain still under their scrutiny, the only sign of her anxiety the way her fists clenched and unclenched in the fabric of her tunic. 

“Hiroko-chan,” Orochimaru said, his tone a command, and Mayuri went rigid. She couldn’t make herself turn away from him, afraid that if she took her eyes off this monster her head would find itself detached from her body, but she felt as her sister came to stand beside her. She reached out blindly and Hiroko immediately slipped her hand into hers. Mayuri wasn’t sure which of their hands was shaking harder. Orochimaru’s smile grew wider as the sisters stared up at him expectantly. “Kill the boy, since your sister refuses to do it.”

The world seemed to freeze around them. The temperature dropped rapidly and she could see both of their breaths as they filled the air, clouds of silver mingling and dissipating as they rose towards the stone ceiling. Hiroko made a soft sound, something trapped and scared. 

“But why?” she whispered, voice so small that Mayuri almost couldn’t hear it despite how close they stood. “Your people all love you, Orochimaru-sama. Why do you want us to hurt someone who loves you?”

“Does that matter?” Kabuto cut in, his position never changing. “Orochimaru-sama has given you an order. Would you disobey him?”

He looked almost lazy as he leaned against the wall, as though they weren’t discussing the death of a boy barely older than he was. From the ground, the boy moaned softly, his breathing not quite as labored anymore. He shifted and Mayuri couldn’t bear to look at him, her wide eyes still focused on the two figures that stood so high above all of them.

From the corner of her eye, she could see Hiroko shake her head slowly. Her shoulders were slumped, her head bowed low. Mayuri knew that her sister would do it, if it would spare Mayuri the pain, if it would keep Orochimaru from hurting them. Hiroko would set herself on fire if she thought it would be enough to keep someone else warm. 

For a brief second, Mayuri was tempted to let her do it. She didn’t want to kill again; just the thought of it was enough to make her feel shaky and sick. It would be so much easier to let Hiroko shoulder this heavy burden. 

Hiroko took a step forward, her hand slipping out of Mayuri’s. Her trembling fingers lingered briefly, silently begging for reassurance and forgiveness. Mayuri closed her eyes and crossed her arms tightly over her chest like that would be enough to hold her together. Her eyes stung with tears she refused to let fall and her heart was in her throat. A shiver crawled up her spine. Her heart was in her throat, her chest tight with a mixture of grief and sudden cold fury.

Taking a deep breath, she forced her ulna out through the base of her wrist, willing it to become sharp and deadly. The bone shaped itself to her will easily and glistened wetly in the low light. She shoved Hiroko out of the way, maneuvering herself to stand between her and the boy, arm outstretched like she could hide her little sister from the rest of the world.

Hiroko gasped as she stumbled backwards, tripping over her own feet and hitting the ground hard. She stared up at Mayuri with wide eyes, something startled and uncertain in her expression. Underneath that, though, was the unwavering faith of a younger sibling, trusting that her big sister would make everything okay. 

Mayuri hated herself for how badly she was going to disappoint her.

She wielded the bone like the weapon Orochimaru wanted it to be as she turned to face him, a snarl on her lips as she snapped, “Don’t tell my sister to do my job. If you want me to do something, just say so. I’m yours to command, Orochimaru-sama.” 

Blood was oozing from her wrist and the deep gouges in her arms in time with her pulse, and she was beginning to feel lightheaded and cold. She was always so cold, here. She wasn’t sure if this defiance was going to be the death of her or not, but it was all she could think of to save Hiroko from the awful burden of having the death of someone weighing upon her soul, and to draw the attention away from her. 

Even if she was ordered to kill him, Mayuri told herself firmly that she could do it. She already had blood staining her hands, soaked down past her bones and into her soul. Hiroko was still unstained, still innocent in that regard, and if Mayuri could spare her little sister that taint on her soul, she would.

Kabuto had shifted forward to lean against the railing instead, his arms crossed over the smooth steel. His head was tilted, expression thoughtful. Orochimaru’s eyes were bright as he watched the sisters, though his face was just as composed as ever. Hiroko was still kneeling on the floor, and Mayuri could almost see as she worked out what was going on. She seemed too stunned to say anything, though, and Mayuri was glad for that. She didn’t want Orochimaru’s attention on her sister any more than it had to be. 

“Come up here, child, before you bleed out,” Orochimaru commanded. 

Mayuri didn’t spare a glance at her sister as she obeyed, moving as though through a dream, well aware that she had just sold what remained of her soul. His expression shifted, just enough that she could swear she saw something smug and content. He was like a predator who had just spotted an easy meal, but for all that people compared him to a snake, Mayuri secretly thought he was more like a cat. He would play with his meal, would push her and break her and hurt her until she was begging for death, before he was content to devour her.   
She climbed the stairs with heavy steps, and she knew that if she were wearing her bells, they would surely be making more noise than they had in months. By the time she stopped in front of Orochimaru, her body felt heavy and her mind sluggish. 

She bowed low, the sound of her blood dripping to the stone floor echoing through the cavern, and found it difficult to summon the energy to even straighten up again. At Kabuto’s prompting, she held her arm out for him to examine. He hummed softly, grey eyes flickering from her arms to her face. She met his eye and held his gaze unflinchingly. A smile flickered across his face, then his hands began to glow a gentle green as he swept them over the wounds, repairing skin and nerve endings alike as he went. 

Below them, the boy’s labored breathing continued and Hiroko was ushered out of the center of the ring by Yuki-sensei. Mayuri swallowed hard around the lump in her throat and tried to tell herself that things would be okay, in one way or another. She hated how bitter the lie tasted on her tongue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please review.
> 
> Like, seriously, if that's all you take from this long ass author's note, it's that. I appreciate every single person who reads this fic, who leaves kudos or bookmarks it, but I'm going to be honest; it's really disheartening to spend literal days or weeks on a chapter only to have one or two reviews, and only if I'm lucky. Really, the only reason I post a new chapter more than once a year is because I love that sweet, sweet validation. So if you like this please, for the sake of my self esteem and writing inspiration, let me know what you think.
> 
> That said, here's an extra long chapter! I kind of hate it, but I'm tired of it right at the moment. Maybe I'll go back and revise it later, maybe I won't. (Probably not.)
> 
> A special shout out to Kragh50 from ff.net for reminding me about Mayuri's scars, and for always being so willing to chat. Our little conversations are very inspiring, and remind me of why I'm writing. :)
> 
> Thank you to everyone who reviewed, bookmarked, or left kudos last chapter and all the chapters before. It means so, so much to me! I hope you enjoyed reading this chapter. And a special prize to whoever can guess who the next canon character to be introduced will be. ;)


	23. I Have Seen What the Darkness Does

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hiroko deals with the fallout of Mayuri being taken away

“I’m coming back.” The words were said like an oath, low and firm, like she was daring the world to contradict her. “I’ll see you soon, Hiroko.”

Their eyes had met across the distance between them. Hiroko had taken in the hard expression and the fire in Mayuri’s eyes, the way she held her head high as Kabuto waited impatiently for her to follow him like the good little soldier they were both being trained to be. Hiroko nodded once, trying to ignore the lump in her throat and the tears that gathered at the corners of her eyes, threatening to spill over. There was a boy lying unconscious and bloody behind her and a sense of urgency lingering over the room, and the feeling that something had shifted filled her throat like bile.

“I’ll see you soon,” she echoed, her voice barely a whisper. Her trembling fingers curled into fists, knuckles white. She cleared her throat and repeated, louder, “I’ll see you soon.”

She made sure her words were just as much a promise as her sister’s, and despite the way her voice shook and cracked, she saw Mayuri smile. It was small, and so full of self loathing and sorrow, that Hiroko could feel herself getting choked up all over again. She blinked up at her sister, eyes wide and wet. She felt like her heart was breaking.

She was reminded suddenly, inexplicably, of a time years and a lifetime ago; Of too many pills and sitting in her sister’s lap in an emergency room, face hidden in Avery’s shoulder, tears staining both their shirts, apologizing over and over again while her big sister soothed her. Avery’s voice had been rough with emotion, but she had never let a single tear fall where anyone else could see.

No matter her name, no matter the world, her big sister tried so hard to never let anyone see her pain. She never wanted anyone to see her tears, no matter how many times she softly assured everyone else that it was okay to cry. The way she closed herself off and refused to let anyone else see, anyone else help, was far sadder than any tears could ever be. 

As she watched Mayuri turn away and allow herself to be led towards the door, something in her chest seized. This felt too much like goodbye. She stumbled forwards, managing a few shaky steps after them. She didn’t have the slightest idea what was going to happen: it could be simple private training, the way it had been for months, or it could be something far, far worse. How could she let Mayuri walk away? What if something happened to her again?

She thought of hospitals, of bandages and life support and a funeral with only a handful of close family and friends. She thought of the way her sister never let anyone in and always hid her feelings, both good and bad, from everyone. Even those closest to her – even Hiroko herself – rarely got to see who she really was beneath all those layers of false smiles and careful self-censorship. Yet now, Mayuri was so obviously terrified, even if she hid it behind that ugly smile and fists clenched tightly to hide how they were shaking.

Orochimaru’s smile had been so cruel and his eyes had been so horribly hungry, when he had told Mayuri to kill the boy that still lay prone on the ground somewhere behind Hiroko. She didn’t remember much about Orochimaru from the show, other than the fact that he had killed the third Hokage and lured Sasuke away, and for the last few years, she had found herself wondering if he was really that bad. She had allowed herself to believe the propaganda and the reverent whispers she heard from around the base, his devoted followers telling tales of his glory with an almost frightening light in their eyes, like worshippers speaking of their god.

It was so easy to forget that he was the mind behind the weeks of torment she had endured after they had first woken up here. After all, he had very rarely been the one to carry out the atrocities. His face had never been the one that came to mind when she thought of her week of isolation, or of empty cots and ice burning through her veins. He was associated with cruel genjutsu tricks, yes, but more than that, when she thought of Orochimaru, she thought of glinting eyes and soft words of hard-earned praise. She thought of punishments that she was somehow tricked into believing she deserved and the comfort of gentle words and fond hair ruffling afterwards. He was the comfort of familiarity, the yearning to please someone important, the gentle or disciplinary hand of a father-figure that she had never known in this world. He was rarely in the village anymore, so perhaps that was why she had never seen his truly ugly side.

But hadn’t Mayuri said he was the one who had killed their mother? Hadn’t she said that she had seen it all? And even now, she still wouldn’t speak of what had happened to her when she had first opened her eyes to this new world. For the first time, as she watched her sister walk away to yet another unknown fate, it occurred to her just how horrific it must have been, if Mayuri refused to so much as make self deprecating jokes about it.

Terror twisted in her stomach as guilt gnawed at her soul. She stumbled a few more steps forward, would have ran to where Mayuri was, if Yuki-sensei hadn’t grabbed her arm in an iron grip and refused to be shaken off.

“Wait!” she begged. Kabuto turned back to glance at her, his expression closed off, almost eerily empty. Orochimaru was already gone, back to whatever tasks were keeping him out of the village so much, and somehow, that just made it worse. Bitterness rose in her throat, fury at him for condemning Mayuri to what was almost certainly an awful fate, and then leaving before they could even try to change his mind. Or maybe the sensation of flames crawling up her throat was just the bile. 

“What is it?” Kabuto asked. It shouldn’t have come as any surprise, but it still stung, how cold he was, how much he disregarded the lives of all those around him.

Hiroko could feel her chakra roiling within her, reacting to her tumultuous emotions like a pit of angry vipers being prodded with a stick. The temperature all around her dropped, and her breaths were easily visible in the frigid air. Frost spread from where she stood, painting the ground in delicate, swirling designs. Apparently, this was what a messy mix of fury, guilt, and determination looked like when given physical form. It was surprisingly beautiful. She met Kabuto’s eyes.

“Take me instead.”

“ _NO!_ ” Mayuri whirled to face her, eyes burning and her shriek echoing throughout the cavern. 

Yuki-sensei’s firm grip on her arm turned bruising. Hiroko thought that she had never seen her sister look so desperate or so furious. She looked like some horrible goddess, the ghost of some divine deity, come to rain wrath down upon all those in her presence. Her eyes were wild green flames, standing in screaming technicolor contrast to the black-and-white background of her skin and hair, and the sepia of the rock walls and flickering flames all around them. As Hiroko watched, bones burst from her shoulders, curling around her neck and arms like fingers set to strangle the life from her tiny body. Blood dripped from the pointed ends of them, adding more color to her visage.

Seemingly unconcerned with the dangers Mayuri’s abilities presented, Kabuto reached easily between the bones to rest a hand on her shoulder. It was a reminder of who was in charge disguised as a friendly gesture. She jerked at the contact, teeth bared behind chapped lips in an expression that was bordering on feral.

“Kabuto, you _can’t_ -"

“Quiet.” His voice was soft and cold, and Mayuri shut her mouth so quickly that Hiroko could hear her teeth click together from halfway across the room. He turned his gaze upon Hiroko, who stared up at him with an odd mixture of hope and blind terror. Then, he smiled, and she felt her heart sink. “I’m sorry, Hiroko-chan, but I’m afraid orders are orders.” 

And with that, he turned and strode away. Mayuri lingered behind for a second, her eyes trained solely on Hiroko, like they were the only two beings who really existed in this entire world. Maybe they were. Even with her arm held painfully tight, even with her muscles sore, and with the cold from the air around her prickling at her skin and frost-covered rock biting at the soles of her bare feet, Hiroko still wondered if perhaps nothing here was real. It had all been a show, hadn’t it? 

“Mayuri-chan,” Kabuto called, his voice echoing ominously throughout the empty space left in his wake. 

Hiroko watched the emotions that flashed across Mayuri’s face, too twisted and quick for her to make sense of, before her features smoothed out. She offered Hiroko a small smile, a smile that seemed to say, _I’m glad it’s me and not you._ It made Hiroko want to vomit. 

“We’ll be alright!” she yelled as Mayuri walked away. Her voice was tiny and lisping, yet it seemed to fill the cavern with its intensity. “I love you! I love you, and I’ll find a way to get you back! I promise!” She didn’t know what, exactly, she was promising to save her from. She only knew that, in that moment, that promise was the most important thing. 

Mayuri glanced back over her shoulder, and Hiroko could swear that, between the arching bones that helped to shadow her features, she saw tears shining in her sister’s eyes and leaving trails down her cheeks. 

“I’ll be back, Hiro. I promise.” 

And then she was gone. 

Hiroko went totally limp, Yuki-sensei’s bruising grip the only thing keeping her from hitting the ground. There were tears trickling down her cheeks and freezing on her skin, crystals that shattered against the stone floor as they dripped from her chin. It took her a moment to realize that the horrible, warbling cries were coming from her throat. 

Yuki-sensei scooped her up, cradling her easily in her arms despite how frail and delicate the old woman looked. Despite her refined appearance, she did not seem to mind the way that Hiroko was getting tears and snot all over the front of her elegant robes. In another situation, Hiroko might have felt bad about it. However in that moment, with realizations and anxieties and more emotions than her tiny body could process, Hiroko couldn’t find enough room in her heart to give a shit about whether or not the expensive fabric would be stained by her leaking face. 

They swept past the boy that Mayuri had knocked out, and Yuki-sensei didn’t spare him a single glance. Hiroko tried to croak out a question, to ask what would happen to the boy who her sister had spared, possibly at the cost of her own life. She couldn’t seem to be able to fit the words past the lump in her throat, though. Whenever she tried, the old woman would just shush her, pulling her a little closer. 

They left the boy lying on the blood splattered floor, and all she seemed to be able to think about was that awful little smile that Mayuri had given her, and the way Kabuto’s facade had turned cold, like it wasn’t worth it to keep hiding behind a smile any more. Some distant part of Hiroko wondered what kind of a monster she was becoming, that she couldn’t even bring herself to worry about a little boy that needed help; The rest of her didn’t care. 

_._

“I don’t really understand what you’re so upset about,” Dosu admitted as they sat side by side on the bed that used to be Mayuri’s. Hiroko stared at him incredulously, and he rushed to continue. “I mean, she’s been in the medical wing for a while now, right? It’s not like they’re taking her away or anything. She’s probably just going to continue staying there.” 

“You don’t know that! Anything could be happening right now!” she snapped. She was agitated, tugging at her hair so hard that strands had begun to detach themselves from her head and clung to her sweaty fingers like spiderwebs. 

“And _you_ don’t know that anything bad is happening,” he pointed out, ever the logical know-it-all. It was strange, how similar and yet different he and Mayuri were. 

“Dosu. They wanted us to _kill_ someone.” 

He shrugged, looking a little uncomfortable. “They probably didn’t really mean it.” 

Hiroko shook her head, eyes a little wild and she said, “I just know, okay? I can feel it.” She curled a hand over her heart, fingers bunching the fabric of her tunic. She wanted to reach into her own chest and pull it out. She could feel it aching behind her ribs, pounding with terror and frustration and uncertainty. “I can feel it right here. Something is really wrong.” 

“Hiro, you don’t have any proof that something bad is happening. Why are you getting so worked up about this? Mayuri is probably being taught more medical ninjutsu as we speak and she’s going to laugh when you tell her that you thought she was being tortured or whatever.” 

Hiroko felt hurt rising in her chest, bitterness resting on her tongue. There were tears welling in her eyes again and Dosu was looking worried. Even if he should be used to her fits of passion after being friends for almost a year, he always became a bit panicked as soon as the waterworks started. She swallowed hard around the lump in her throat, trying to blink back the tears that threatened to spill over; She had already cried too much today. 

_“Why don’t you believe me?”_

His face crumpled, guilt easy to read despite the scar tissue that twisted his features. He sighed and shook his head slowly. 

“Hiro, it’s not that I don’t believe you. I just don’t know—” 

“You don’t believe me, Dosu,” she interrupted, scowling down at her knees. “Don’t lie to me, on top of that.” 

_He didn’t say anything. They sat in silence for a long time, each lost in their own thoughts, their own feelings, unsure of how to continue the conversation from there. Slowly, Hiroko allowed herself to relax. She focused on each of her breaths, reminding herself that Dosu was only a child with far too much faith in his home._

_“It’s fine,” she said at last, and he jerked in surprise, turning to look at her. She didn’t tear her gaze away from where her hands were folder in her lap, knuckles white and frost creeping across her fingers. “You weren’t there. You didn’t see her, or see that boy and all that blood. You didn’t hear Orochimaru-sama’s voice when he….”_

_She trailed off, her eyes glazed and distant. Dosu watched her as she tried to regulate her breathing, to focus on the promise that she and Mayuri had made each other. Then he reached out, slow and careful, like he was afraid she might bite him, and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. She went stiff, but didn’t resist as he pulled her against him. He waited until she had relaxed into his side, trembling slightly, before he spoke._

_“You’re still taking those lessons with Risa-san and Kaito-san, right?”_

_Hiroko frowned, confused by the sudden change in topic. After a second of hesitation, she nodded. Dosu hummed, the sound deep and scratchy, sounding not quite human as it vibrated through his damaged vocal cords. Hiroko wriggled under his arm, twisting so that she could look up at him without leaving the comfort of his hug._

_He was wearing what Mayuri had dubbed his “serious thinking face,” which looked more like he was struggling to clench his buttcheeks after drinking spoiled milk, in Hiroko’s opinion. However, that face usually meant he was about to spew some knowledge or idea that would keep the three of them out of trouble and at the top of their class. It was usually worth it to be quiet and wait until he sorted his thoughts out, so that was exactly what she did. Eventually, he spoke._

_“They’re both jounin of Otogakure, so it would be safe to say that they probably have a better idea than most about what happens within our village, right?” Hiroko turned again to look at him, jerking out of the hug as she did so. He met her wide eyed gaze steadily, and his lips turned up to reveal his gap-toothed smile. “It’s obvious, right? Just talk to them about it. They’re sure to know _something._ ”_

_“You’re right,” she said, latching onto the idea, already trying to come up with the best way to get them to tell her what they knew. She would have to be sneaky, would have to be pitiable, would have to be—_

_“Be careful.”_

_Yeah, that, too. The last thing she needed was to draw suspicion to herself. Especially not from the people that she might be able to learn valuable skills from. If she could convince Kaito to teach her how to make explosive seals, then she might be able to use that to get through whatever obstacles or locks stood between her and her sister. Risa was also one of the shinobi that was sent out on frequent stealth and assassination missions. If Hiroko could get her to reveal where some of the more easily accessed back exits of the village were, then it would be that much easier to run away from the village. That wasn’t even accounting for Yuki-sensei, who had been hinting at wanting to take Hiroko back to the clan’s ancestral lands for weeks now. With the right amount of tears and a delicate balance between truth and lie, Hiroko knew she could get the old woman to smuggle Mayuri out, too, even if it would put her own life at risk. If she really played it up, she could probably arrange for Yuki-sensei to get Dosu out as well._

_A harsh shake was enough to startle her out of her thoughts. Hiroko blinked wide, mismatched eyes up at Dosu, whose hands were still resting heavy upon her shoulders. He looked so solemn as he gazed at her, his dark eyes soft. Her brow furrowed with her uncertainty as she stared back, falling into the endless darkness of his stare._

_“What is it?” she asked, voice soft._

_“Be careful,” he repeated, a little more firmly than before. She felt herself flush, though why, she didn’t know. “I can see you scheming. Just...don’t do anything stupid, Hiro.”_

_“I can’t promise anything,” she told him with a grin, trying to lighten the mood a little bit and make him smile. “We both know that I’m the reckless twin, right? You and Mayuri are both the boring ones.”_

_Her attempts at humor fell decidedly flat. Dosu grimaced in response to her words, the skin of his face wrinkling and twisting in an ugly way. Luckily, such things had stopped churning her stomach after their first month of real friendship._

_“This is no laughing matter,” he told her, firm and strict. He would make an impressive team leader with a tone like that, some day. “If what you told me is true, then this could very well prove to be a dangerous path you have set yourself on. Don’t waste Mayuri’s sacrifice by doing something stupid.”_

_Something in her heart twisted like a knife to the back, slicing through muscles and veins and chambers without an ounce of mercy. Sorrow and indignation mixed, blooming across her chest like blood. She wanted to yell at him, to remind him once more that he knew _nothing_ of what had happened, that he couldn’t understand what it was like to watch the last family member you had walk away to some awful, unknown future, and to be unable to do anything to help or stop them. The lump in her throat was the only thing that stopped her from spitting her anger, grief, and fears like acid at her only actual friend in this world. It was the only reason she heard his next words, soft and shaking as they were._

_“If you do something stupid...please don’t leave me behind, Hiroko. I...I don’t think I could stand to lose you, too. So please….”_

_He was shaking, though the flickering light of the torches made it difficult to see. Hiroko felt her anger abate, being replaced by shame at her own angry thoughts and mingling pity for this scared little boy. It was so easy to forget what it was like to be so young, both in body and mind._

_He wasn’t yet seven, and already he had lost everything. No father, no mother, no brothers or sisters. His old appearance was gone, and with its disappearance he had nothing left but the constant ache of damaged nerves and scar tissue, and the loneliness and humiliation of being the freak of every room he walked into. His only two friends would always be half a world away from him, wrapped up in their own schemes and memories, never truly able to open up to him like he could to them. On top of that, of those two friends, only Hiroko had been around recently. She knew that she hadn’t been a good friend since Mayuri had been moved to the medical ward, always worried and on edge, ready to snap at the smallest of stressors._

_He was so young, had only lived this one single life, and yet it was still so easy to look at him and forget that. It was so easy to let this body’s childish gaze fall upon him and think, _older, wiser, stronger._ Hiroko sighed, and then let herself fall forwards into him, wrapping her arms around his middle and clinging like a limpet. _

_“We don’t deserve you,” she whispered into his side, words soft and muffled enough that she knew he couldn’t hear her. “You’re going to grow up to do such great things, Dosu. With or without us.”_

_She already knew that any promises she made to him would be a lie. He knew it, too, so neither of them dared to say what was on their minds. Instead, they just stayed like that, curled together in the dim light of their room until they fell asleep._

_._

_It was three days before Hiroko saw Risa for her lessons, and in that time, she hadn’t heard a word from or about Mayuri. It was like all of the medics she spoke to thought that if they pretended like Mayuri had never existed in the first place, Hiroko would eventually just forget about her. Instead, it just cemented the notion that something was seriously wrong and made her even more desperate to find her._

_Though her anxiety mounted with every passing moment, the time did allow Hiroko to form more of a plan for when she approached Risa, instead of simply “look cute and be sweet, ask about Mayuri. If answer isn’t satisfactory, cry and then ask again.” She had tried that with the medics, and hadn’t had any real results, though the guilt on the majority of their faces had been enough to tell her that they knew _something_ and that it wasn’t good._

_So she bided her time, and when she saw Risa again, she set to her assigned tasks silently. Each delicate stroke of a paintbrush or each careful line that was carved into the glinting metal or shimmering glass had her full attention. Not even Risa’s usual cheerful chattering could break her focus. It wasn’t long until the teenager took note of Hiroko’s unusual demeanor, and she eventually stopped talking as well._

_They worked in silence for more than an hour, Risa eyeing Hiroko worriedly whenever she thought the younger girl wouldn’t notice. Hiroko kept her eyes down, her shoulders slumped, her work careful and flawless. Looking despondent wasn’t hard at all. It wasn’t long before Risa caved._

_“Alright, kiddo. Time to spill it.”_

_Hiroko looked up from her work, adopting a deer-in-the-crossfire sort of expression. “Wh-what? I don’t know what you mean.” She set the meteor hammer she had been in the process of decorating down, the chain clinking softly as it was moved._

_“You’ve been moping all day,” Risa declared, setting aside her own half finished project. The curved blade of the oversized ax glinted like an executioner’s blade, dyed a strange but beautiful whirl of reds and blues, a half finished clan marking etched onto its head. A custom order, then._

_Hiroko bit her lip and twirled her hair. She had practiced this exact action and careful expression in the mirror until she had it down. She knew that she looked delicate and sweet, knew that Risa looked at her and saw a child that needed to be protected, harmless even while she held deadly weapons in her tiny, calloused hands. Hiroko knew that she could use that, and had been counting on it._

_“It’s just….” She paused and looked away, long eyelashes fluttering and eyes shining with crocodile tears that maybe weren’t as faked as she wanted to pretend. “I miss my sister, Risa-sensei. I don’t know where she’s gone and nobody will tell me anything. I’m really worried!”_

_She looked back in time to watch Risa’s face as she processed Hiroko’s words. She was very expressive, for a shinobi that had a track record in infiltration. Most of them had been taught early on how to hide their feelings and keep their faces carefully blank (as was obvious nearly every time she spoke with an adult in the cafeteria) but Risa showed her emotions clearly._

_Hiroko had wondered in the past whether it was by design or not. Maybe, after reaching a certain power level or social standing, shinobi just didn’t care as much about that careful control. After all, if you were powerful enough, what did it matter if someone knew that they had pissed you off? They’d be dead before they got the chance to tell anyone._

_Risa seemed to have settled on pity by the time she said, “I’m so sorry, Hiro-chan. It must be hard for you, but you have to have faith that whatever is happening, it’s for the good of the village. Mayuri-chan is strong. I’m sure she’ll be alright.”_

_Hiroko had to fight against the urge to grind her teeth. It wasn’t quite what she wanted to hear, but it was still better than Risa pretending like Mayuri had never existed in the first place or ignoring Hiroko’s concerns altogether._

_“Do you know what’s happening to Mayuri? Is she okay?” Hiroko asked, wide eyed and hopeful. Risa was easy enough to get information out of, was always so willing to help. She was mischievous and could be rather brutal in her training methods, but at her core, she was almost too kind to be healthy. She would only find her soft heart taken advantage of if she wasn’t more careful, just like Hiroko was doing now. “Please, Risa-sensei. Do you know where my sister is?”_

_Risa’s eyes were sad as she shook her head, and Hiroko felt her heart clench, because she was pretty sure that Risa wouldn’t lie to her about this. She might not be willing to tell the full truth or to give her any details, but she wouldn’t lie._

_“I’m sorry, but I don’t know anything about where your sister might have been taken. I’m sure she’s alright, though! Mayuri-chan has a bright future here, right? She’s getting trained to become one of Otogakure’s kunoichi! Whatever is going on, it’ll be for the best. Just be patient and have faith in Orochimaru-sama.”_

_Hiroko felt like throwing up. She had been so certain that Risa would know something. Instead, she forced herself to give Risa a shaky smile._

_“If you hear anything, please tell me, Risa-sensei. Please. I just want to know that Mayuri is safe.”_

_“Of course!”_

_The weapons that Risa created were not only beautiful, but functional and of a quality that was rare and sought-after. It was only to be expected, as someone who had been trained by the village of artisans and sought out by Orochimaru himself. Her creations served dual purposes – able to be used by shinobi of Otogakure, as well as being sold as merchants’ wares to bring additional revenue to the village._

_That, as well as her skills as an infiltration and assassination specialist, made her very valuable. Hiroko hadn’t realized at first how lucky she was, to have caught this girl’s attention. Despite all that, though, if her words were true, it was looking like Risa did not actually have any special knowledge about the inner workings of Otogakure. It was disappointing, to say the least._

_Hiroko looked away, nodded silently, and tried to fight back the tears that were threatening to spill down her cheeks. She noted that Risa had begun shivering, and tried to focus on reigning in her chakra, on releasing the hold she had over the ice that ran through her chakra networks. She regulated her breathing and tried to let go of the control she had over the very air around them._

_When she was younger, in another world entirely, she would have killed to have abilities like this. Lucky her, she hadn’t actually had to kill anyone to wind up with magical powers. She just had to die, and watch dozens of children die, too._

_Scowling, she got back to her work, carving tiny budding vines along each of the links of the meteor hammer’s chain. She would ask Risa again in a few days, see if she had learned anything new, but for now it was useless. She just had to trust that Risa’s kindness would ensure that she actually did let Hiroko know if she got any news about Mayuri._

_In the meantime, she would just have to keep searching._

_._

_The nightmares had gotten worse. She couldn’t pass the night without waking in a cold sweat, a scream trapped in her throat and just waiting to be released. More than once, she had woken to find Dosu in bed with her, holding her close as she sobbed herself awake._

_She kept dreaming of that awful smile that had carved open her sister’s face as Kabuto lead her away, of a woman smiling at her from the middle of the road, headlights coming closer and setting her long hair aflame in the darkness. There was always so much blood, painting her face and covering her hands. The sound of a heart monitor and the screeching of tires and the screaming of a family left behind filled her head until those horrific sounds and awful images were the only things left in her whole world._

_She stopped trying to sleep, after a while. It wasn’t worth it. She would go and go, training until she bled, working with Risa until her eyes ached and her muscles burned, until she couldn’t move any longer, until sleep dragged her into its depths and she was far too tired to dream of anything but the darkness and woke up to sore muscles and aching bones instead of screams._

_She sometimes liked to think that the ache in her bones was some sign that Mayuri was alive, working just as hard to get back to her. She had never really believed in twin telepathy, even after she found herself with one, but it made her feel better to think that there was something special that connected them through the space between them._

_At night she would wait until Dosu fell asleep and then she would slip out of their bedroom, still in her nightdress, and wander the halls of Otogakure. She tried to be sneaky about it, sticking to the shadows and ducking into the nearest empty room if she heard anyone approaching. That was how she found one of the labs._

_She had slipped inside the nearest closed door of a section of the village that she had never been in before. She eased the door shut, glad that the hinges in ninja villages tended to be well oiled, and waited with baited breath for the sound of footsteps to disappear down the hall. Her sigh of relief was quiet, and as she relaxed, she became aware of the sound of bubbling water and beeping machinery coming from behind her._

_Slowly, she turned, and felt the blood drain from her face. The room was filled with tanks, like the one she had spent so much time in soon after waking in this new world. Each had the wavering figure of a child inside._

_It was like she had walked into another nightmare. For a moment, she was rooted to the spot. Her stomach was twisting painfully inside her belly, expanding in her horror and forcing its way up her throat, choking her. Her hands curled into fists, fingernails biting into her palms and carving out little moon-shaped crescents of blood._

_She could remember all too clearly her time spent in a tank like the ones spread out before her, lit up and glowing in the otherwise darkened room in a hazy sea of multicolored lights. The awful feeling of liquid inside her lungs, filling her nose and mouth and ears, pressing against her skin and keeping her still and helpless. Even if it wasn’t real, her mind still conjured images of Mayuri’s blood swirling and mixing within the toxic green sludge of her own tank, a pillar of ice shoved through her abdomen._

_Could this be where they were keeping Mayuri?_

_She surged forwards, all trepidation vanishing with the thought. If her sister was trapped somewhere in this room, she had to find her! She had to get her out. If she could do that, then they could run away from this awful place. Even if they couldn’t get far, even if Orochimaru or the shinobi of this village came after them, at least they would die together, at least they would die trying to be free._

_She moved throughout the forest of glowing tanks, trying to find her sister amongst the tiny bodies. Each face was so young, so peaceful, as if they were all simply asleep. She knew exactly how it felt to be aware and yet not quite awake. To be in those tanks was to be trapped in some kind of awful dreamlike state, like purgatory on earth._

_She paused when she saw a flash of white hair, a head and torso without the rest of the body. She felt horror rise in her chest and panic claw its way up her throat for the split second that she thought, _“Mayuri?”_ _

_She felt like a horrible, awful person for the relief that flooded her as she looked closer and realized that the mutilated child inside the tank was not her sister. Was it so wrong, to be glad that the person suffering such a horrific fate was _anyone_ besides Mayuri?_

_As she turned to move on to the next row of tanks, she thought she saw the child’s eyes flutter open. When she turned back, though, he was still limp and appeared to be resting peacefully. She lingered a moment longer, pressing a hand gently to the glass like that would somehow be enough to comfort the child. There was no reaction, and eventually, she moved on to the next row of tanks._

_She never found Mayuri within that room, but after that, something drove her to come back nearly every night. She wasn’t sure if she was hoping that Mayuri would show up someday, or if it was because she wanted to do what she could to offer the children inside the tanks some measure of comfort. Maybe, these children stuck as she was just made her feel less lonely, less cursed with bad luck. After all, she had been freed from that limbo, hadn’t she?_

_In the end, she decided not to think too hard on it._

_._

_Kaito seemed startled when she brought it up to him a few weeks later, when she saw him for her lessons. Usually, she would have seen him just days after Risa, but he had been busy with another project and hadn’t had time for their twice-weekly sessions. He had been leaning over her, patiently explaining how even something as small as the width of a line could affect a seal, when she had asked if he knew anything about what had happened to her sister._

_“Something has happened to Mayuri-chan?” he asked, his thick white eyebrows furrowed with concern. Hiroko frowned and her hand clenched tightly around the brush she used to practice her seals, ruining the rudimentary storage seal that she had been working on with a huge blotch of black ink._

_“Kabuto took her away somewhere. Orochimaru ordered him to. Now, all of the medics I talk to act like they’ve never even heard of her. I know for a fact that she was getting lessons from most of them at one point or another. No one knows anything about where she might be or what might be happening, or if they do, they act like they don’t! I don’t know what the hell is going on anymore. I just know that something bad has to be happening to her!”_

_Her hands were shaking. Maybe at another time, she would have been more careful with her words, but she was so tired she could barely see straight. The anxiety ate away at her more and more every passing second, leaving her high strung and ready to snap. It had been more than a month since Mayuri had been taken, and she had yet to find anything. Her patience was wearing thin and her nerves were fraying, and her mind kept conjuring images of what could be happening to her sister, each more horrific than the last._

_As a shinobi village, the base was anything but inactive, even in the wee hours of the morning. Eventually she got caught out of her room at night, but no one who saw her had spared her a second glance. Even at odd hours, Hiroko was still a known face around Otogakure. No one thought twice about seeing her wandering the passages, except maybe to ask about where her sister was or how Dosu was doing since she was so rarely without one or both of them._

_The fact that everyone she spoke to seemed to be totally innocent in Mayuri’s disappearance left her more frustrated than relieved, because that meant that she had nowhere she could turn her anger to. Kabuto hadn’t shown his face since he had taken Mayuri away, and Orochimaru was reportedly out of the village again, doing whatever it was he did when he was away._

_“I’m sure she’s okay,” Kaito was saying, his voice low and soothing. “You and your sister are both very valuable to Orochimaru-sama. He wouldn’t let anything bad happen to her. You know that, right? Wherever she is, Mayuri-chan is going to be fine.”_

_The world had gone grey around the edges, and in her ears were a hundred other voices, each echoing those same empty promises. Each voice assuring her that she was wrong, she was being silly, Mayuri was fine, fine, fine. There was nothing to worry about! Orochimaru knows best! She had thought that Kaito, at the very least, would be worried. She had thought she could trust him to offer a helping hand, after all his gentle smiles and kind words, the way he sometimes looked at them so warmly, like they were precious to him._

_She should have known better than to trust him._

_Something inside of her felt like it was breaking._

_“SHUT UP!” she howled, pushing herself to her feet and whirling to face him. The chair clattered to the floor, hitting the stone with a too-loud sound that seemed to echo all around her. She could feel the ice as it gathered at her fingertips, spreading slowly up her arms and disappearing beneath the sleeves of her tunic._

_Kaito had straightened up. He towered over her, but he had still moved back to put distance between them, like he was worried she was a true threat. Hiroko couldn’t wrap her mind around that thought, couldn’t bring her mind to form coherent thoughts at all, but something inside her seemed to purr in satisfaction at the wary look on the old man’s face._

_Her chakra was roiling inside her. They had stopped sealing it back when Mayuri’s bones had swelled up and broken her from the inside. In the months since then, she had felt it growing inside her every day, flowing through her veins like fire and ice. Now, as she let the sleepless nights and the fury and frustrations fill and overwhelm her, she could feel it concentrate into the center of her chest._

_She found that, despite the way it burned, she liked the feeling of a small sun going supernova inside her chest cavity. She had only felt like this a few times before, almost three years ago, when she had still been adjusting to this new body and these new powers. She hadn’t even realized she had missed the feeling, until it was filling her up._

_The world seemed like it had slowed down all around her. The ice was shimmering, hanging in the air around her, chakra giving form to her fury. She advanced on Kaito, and she could see the uncertainty in his eyes and in the way his fingertips brushed across the sun-faded seals tattooed across his forearms. Though it made that cruel little thing inside her happy to see him like that, mostly, she was hurt that he would look at her with such an expression. Did he really think that she would hurt him?_

_(Did he think she _could_ hurt him? Even with how old he was, she had always been under the impression that he must be very strong. Did people fear kekkei genkai so much that they would look at a child they had known for years and think, _monster_ , as soon as they dared to wield it?)_

_“Where is Mayuri?” she snarled. Her mismatched eyes were alight with her fury, glinting in the torchlight like an animal’s._

_“I don’t know, Hiroko-chan,” Kaito said, low and soothing even as his fingers rested upon the weapons inked into his arms. “Think about what you’re doing right now. Would your sister want you to act like this?”_

_Hiroko had no more patience left. Fuck all of her planning; It hadn’t done her any good so far, anyways. She met Kaito’s eyes as she spat, “I don’t care what Mayuri would think of me. All I care about is finding her. You can help me or you can get out of my fucking way.”_

_“Hiroko, please. This won’t end well for you or Mayuri, so just—”_

_She ignored him as she turned away, pushing down the prickling of hurt that threatened to pollute the anger that was fueling her powers. He called out to her as she shoved open the door, allowing a blast of cold air into the halls beyond that tiny room. She heard his footsteps behind her, moving closer as Kaito followed her out into the hall. With barely a glance, she willed the ice to form around his feet, tripping him up and then crawling over his legs to keep him in place._

_“Stay out of my way. I’m going to find my sister.”_

_And with that, she marched forwards. As she rounded a corner, entering into an adjoining passageway, she could feel the eyes of the handful of shinobi in the hall, curious and wary. She scanned over them, searching for inspiration on how to begin her forceful search. A part of her knew that the consequences for this were not going to be pretty, but she found she couldn’t bring herself to care about that as her eyes fell upon a medic and an idea formed._

_She moved forwards, shoving past the people who were watching. No one moved to stop her, apparently not sure how to handle the situation, as she marched up to the medic-nin and stretched up on her tiptoes to grab the front of his shirt and tug him down so he was forced to look her in the eyes. Tendrils of frost spread across the fabric of his uniform where it was bunched in her tiny fist._

_“Where is Kabuto?” she demanded, watching the confusion flash across his features, grey eyes going wide and a little scared at the mention of the boy._

_“Wh-what?”_

_“You heard me! That asshole took my sister and _I want her back._ Where is he?”_

_The medic shook his head, his brow furrowed and face pale. His eyes darted between her face and the jagged mirrors that hung in the air all around her. Even that movement seemed so slow, though, like she could track each thought that flitted through his mind and every twitch of his jaw. She knew for a fact that the world had not always moved around her in slow motion; Was this another manifestation of her kekkei genkai?_

_She took another chance to take in the shape of his eyes, the light brown color of his skin, and the points of his teeth. All traits of a shinobi who had originated from Kirigakure. No wonder he was so scared, since it seemed that everyone from Water Country had pretty extreme reservations about anyone with inborn abilities like hers. It made her want to roll her eyes, kinda made her want to cry, mostly made her want to stick a shard of ice straight through his neck._

_Hiroko shook off the thought as soon as it entered her head, not quite sure where it had come from. She didn’t want to actually _hurt_ him. All she really wanted was answers, and to have her sister back safe and sound. Since her attempts at manipulation weren’t working, all she had left was to use what little power she had to her advantage. She would have to get what she wanted either through force or through drawing enough attention to herself that _someone_ would finally listen. _

_“Hiroko-chan, what do you think you’re doing?”_

_She glanced back at the person who had spoken, a large woman with a head of messy blue hair. It took her a second to figure out where she knew this person from, but after a second, she remembered. It was one of the many people she had spoken with in the cafeteria, both before and after Mayuri had been taken. She glared at her, not sure how it was this woman knew her name._

_“Unless you know where my sister is, this doesn’t concern you. Stay out of it.”_

_The woman smiled, her hands raised in a peace-keeping manner, like she was dealing with some sort of wild animal. “Hey, we’re all members of this village, right? We’re here to help each other out. There’s no reason to be acting like this.”_

_“I’ve been _trying_ to ask for help for a month now!” Hiroko shot back, and the mirrors grew and sharpened with the angry spike of her chakra. “That hasn’t worked, so...so now I—”_

_“Now you what? Have to scare some poor medic half to death? C’mon, Hiroko-chan. What has the poor man ever done to you?”_

_“I’m five,” she pointed out. “If he’s scared of me, that’s his own damn fault.” Even as she said it, though, she found her hands loosening their death grip on the front of the medic’s uniform. The anger that had been fueling her was fading fast and the hopeless, directionless sorrow was rushing back in to replace it. It felt like the wind had been knocked out of her. “I just...I want my sister back. And...and Kabuto knows where she is! And this guy’s a medic, so he’ll know where Kabuto is.”_

_“I’ll help you find Kabuto-san,” the woman said, her smile strained and her eyes moving in that slow-motion way between Hiroko and somewhere outside Hiroko’s line of sight. It was quick enough that any other person wouldn’t have noticed the way her gaze was darting about. It took her a second to figure out why she was doing it, but by then, the realization that this kunoichi was stalling for time came too late. Hiroko whirled around to face whatever threat was approaching just as Kaito’s hand slammed into her side._

_A searing pain spread throughout her insides, killing the sun that had gathered within her chest. She screamed as it spread through her, choking off her chakra networks and polluting every part of her body. The ice crumbled, falling noisily to the stone beneath her feet and shattering into a thousand shards and beginning to melt almost immediately._

_A pair of large, sturdy arms scooped her up before she could hit the ground, legs no longer capable of supporting her weight. She felt weak and drained without her chakra, and her whole body was aching from the hastily applied seal that felt like it had been seared into her side. There were half a dozen shinobi gathered in the passageway, all of them watching as Kaito lifted her up and held her tightly. It was as though he was afraid that if she could squirm away she might try this stunt all over again, whether her chakra was sealed or not._

_He wasn’t wrong; She might not be able to use her ice, but she did still have the multitudes of weapons Risa had gifted her with._

_“Let me go! I have to get Mayuri back!” She struggled weakly against his hold, and she could feel the tears welling up in her eyes as it began to really sink in how well and truly she was fucked. She was helpless, useless. The only thing she had managed to get out of this was to get her chakra sealed again, and with that, any real advantage she might have had taken away. There was only so much she could do with her senbon against an entire village of trained killers. “Kaito...please…. Please just let me go. I have to find her!”_

_Kaito sighed as he shifted her in his arms, pressing her close so she couldn’t get away and so her face was hidden in his shoulder, muffling her cries. His hand was pressed tightly against the back of her head, keeping her firmly in place. She felt like she was suffocating, which just made her anxiety spike and her struggling become more desperate. The blue haired kunoichi’s voice seemed to come from somewhere far away when she spoke._

_“You gonna be alright, Kaito-san?”_

_Another sigh, and she could feel his chest rumble as he said, “Yeah, I’ll be fine. This one’s a handful, but temper tantrums are to be expected at her age.”_

_Her furious scream was muffled, and the teeth she tried to dig into his shoulder did no good against the stiff material of his kimono top. These little reminders that he had had a family and had raised children before only served to make her feel sick to her stomach. If he had such a soft spot for kids, why wasn’t he trying harder to help Mayuri?_

_The woman was still talking, sounding far more relaxed now that Hiroko’s kekkei genkai had been neutralized._

_“I know how that is. My son is always getting so upset over the littlest things. It’s so much harder when they can’t control themselves yet. If I had known that Yuuya’s family had a kekkei genkai, I probably wouldn’t have married him.” She laughed, a tittering little thing that belied her size._

_“Ah, yes. Well—”_

_“You know the only way to stop this sort of behavior is by making sure the proper punishments are handed out afterwards, right?”_

_Hiroko went still, her mouth going dry. She remembered all too well those times she had made Orochimaru angry enough for him to create a personal punishment, just for her. She remembered the hours stuck inside that tiny space, nothing but blackness and stone walls pressing in on all sides, unable to escape or move or breathe. She remembered the way Mayuri would ask her about it afterwards, how she refused to answer because just thinking about it made the panic attacks come back like she had never been released from that hell._

_“Thank you, Rio-san. I think I can take it from here,” Kaito said. He sounded stiff, like he was trying not to sound angry but wasn’t quite succeeding. “Thank you for the help.” And with that, he turned and marched the two of them away._

_He took her back to her room and left her there with only a murmured, “I’m very disappointed in you,” like that would actually make her feel guilty. He locked the door from the outside, making her wonder what the plan was for when Dosu inevitably had to come back to their room to sleep. It didn’t matter. At least she wasn’t locked in that tiny, dark hole. She could deal with this, and when she was free, she would just continue her search again._

_In the meantime, though, she was feeling tired enough to actually close her eyes. Having all the chakra in your body displaced would do that to you. She sat on her bed and hoped that this time, she could rest without nightmares. She fell asleep to that oddly comforting ache in her bones._

_._

_A month later, she jolted awake to find Kabuto staring down at her. Though she didn’t shriek, she did end up lobbing her pillow at him. It connected with a satisfying _whump_ , though it didn’t seem to faze him. His creepy smile never wavered._

_“I heard you were looking for me.”_

_“What are you doing in my room?” She sat up, glancing towards Dosu to see if he had slept through Kabuto’s intrusion, too, only to find the bed empty. Her stomach dropped as she whipped her eyes back to Kabuto. “Where is Dosu?”_

_“He’s fine,” Kabuto said, infuriatingly calm, like he hadn’t already snatched her sister away. “He’s been called out by your sensei for some one-on-one training. I’m sure he was thrilled.”_

_He seemed so condescending, like he found it funny or perhaps pathetic that a little boy would be excited to have that kind of attention on him. Kabuto smirked and teased and acted like he was so much better than the rest of them. It made her want to clobber him!_

_She didn’t do anything, though. She knew she wouldn’t stand a chance against Kabuto in a real fight, no matter that he was only a few years older than she appeared to be. There was a reason he was Orochimaru’s right hand man, after all, and a reason that people tended to go pale and stiff whenever he was around. Despite how small he was, there was no denying that he was disproportionately powerful and that he would probably laugh while he cut you up and made you scream._

_“Did you need something?” she asked, moving to stand up. She felt way too vulnerable with him looming over her like he was. The floor was cold against her bare feet, a problem she never had when her chakra wasn’t sealed up. They only unsealed it during training, now. Kabuto shifted obligingly back to give her some space._

_“Yes, actually. Get dressed. I have something to show you.”_

_“You could at least take me out to dinner first,” Hiroko said with a mocking smile, ignoring the mistrust she felt for this boy and the way he made her skin crawl just by watching her with those cold grey eyes. “What should I wear for our midnight escapades?”_

_He echoed her mocking tone and said with a smile, “Dress for the occasion.”_

_She rolled her eyes and replied, just as sweet, “What occasion might that be?”_

_“A family reunion, of course.”_

_Hiroko froze. She took in the curve of his lips and the glint of his eyes, trying to puzzle out if this was just a cruel joke or if he was serious. He was always so cruel in all the worst ways. It did seem like the kind of thing he would say, only to yank the rug out from beneath her and smile as he told her that she shouldn’t be so gullible._

_She wet her lips, trying to swallow around the lump that had lodged itself in her throat._

_“Mayuri?” Her voice was barely a whisper. Kabuto’s smile turned sharp before fading away. He gestured wordlessly towards her tiny pile of clothes, and she rushed to get dressed. It was probably a good thing that pretty much all of her clothes were practically carbon copies of each other, because otherwise, it might have taken a little longer; If she was going to see her sister again for the first time in two months, she wanted to look nice!_

_If she looked good on the outside, it was much easier to pretend that she was doing a good job of holding herself together. The last thing she wanted was for Mayuri to be worrying about her all over again. It would be easier to ignore the disaster area her psyche was, if she could only look the part of someone with their mind intact and their life together._

_Within seconds, she was dressed and running her fingers through her long hair, tangled from sleep. She looked expectantly to Kabuto, who seemed to understand that that was his cue to lead her to her sister. He nodded, the smile still conspicuously absent from his face, and glided gracefully out the bedroom door._

_The walk was silent. Questions were pressing against the insides of her skull and balancing precariously on the tip of her tongue, just begging to be asked. She bit them all back, though, because as soon as she dared to let them free, she knew she wouldn’t be able to take them back if she didn’t like the answers._

_She had been hoping for the best for the last two months, but stubbornly unwilling to prepare for the worst. If she was going to finally be able to see Mayuri, she would allow herself a few more minutes of hope before allowing herself to believe that that hope could have been in vain. She would keep believing that her sister was alright, right up until the time she saw for herself that that was not true._

_Kabuto lead her to an enormous room, shaped suspiciously like a coliseum. The stone was dark and smooth and covered in suspicious looking stains. She didn’t like where this was going._

_“Kabuto-san...what’s going on?”_

_He ignored her, continuing his march onwards. Much to her surprise (and immense relief), though, he did not lead her to the center of the coliseum. Instead, she found herself going up a staircase and through a doorway that lead her into a small room near the top of the arena. There was a set of windows looking out into it, and across from the room was a balcony. From where she was standing, face pressed against the glass, she could see Orochimaru lounging on his throne. Mayuri was nowhere to be seen. She felt her mouth go dry._

_“What’s going on?” she repeated, her voice hoarse and rasping as the realization that something was very wrong settled inside her._

_“Have a seat, Hiroko-chan,” Kabuto said. His smile was back, though if she looked hard enough, Hiroko could make out the strain around the edges of it. Maybe something about this situation bothered him, too?_

_She sat, and the chair she had settled in seemed to be trying to swallow her whole. It was surprisingly comfortable, the cushion so plush that she felt like she was sinking into it. From its raised position, she had a perfect view of both the arena and Orochimaru’s balcony. This was a spectator’s seat, and that fact made her feel sick with worry. She wished that she could access her chakra again, just to feel the comforting curl of frost gathering on her fingertips. It had made her feel safer, to have a weapon available to her anytime she wanted to call upon it._

_“Where is Mayuri?” she asked, her fingers curling and uncurling in her lap. Her hair was still messy, brushing her cheeks and tumbling down her back until she was almost sitting on the ends of it. She wished that she had grabbed something to tie it up with. Kabuto watched the way she fidgeted, head tilted and eyes glittering almost silver behind his glasses._

_“If you cause any trouble or say anything, your sister will die,” he warned, voice low. Hiroko went very still, wide eyes still trained on her lap. “If you so much as shout a warning or do anything to let Mayuri-chan know that you’re here, your sister will die screaming and in pain. Do you understand?”_

_She could barely find the air to whisper a pained little, “ _yes.”__

_Kabuto stared for another few seconds, gaze pinning her where she was. She felt like an insect beneath his scrutiny, just waiting to be crushed beneath the sole of his stupid ninja sandal. (Seriously, did they just not realize how ugly and ridiculous those things were?)_

_She waited for Kabuto to say something else. Surely, there was more to his cryptic warnings! Where was Mayuri? What was he expecting Hiroko to try to do? There was no more talk, though. Instead, he just turned back to the window and raised a hand, signalling something to Orochimaru. She wondered when the Otokage had gotten back, if he had ever actually been gone at all._

_A door to the arena that she had not noticed before opened wide, a yawning black pit. Her mouth went dry as her sister emerged, squinting at the sudden flood of light that was far too bright to belong to the torches they were used to. It was only Kabuto’s threat hanging over her head that kept her from shouting in joy, leaping to her feet and rushing down into the arena to tackle Mayuri into a hug._

_It was also the only reason she looked a little closer, and took the time to notice the changes in her sister._

_Mayuri’s long dual-colored hair was gone, cropped short and uneven. It was grey with grime, instead of the white and black Hiroko had become used to. Her clothes looked like they were the same ones she had been wearing when she had been taken away, though they were so stained and torn that it was hard to tell. Even with the distance between them, Hiroko could see how much weight Mayuri had lost in the time she had been gone. Her cheeks were hollow, and through a tear in her top it was easy to see the jutting outline of each of her ribs, as well as the strange press of bones where they did not belong, pressing taut against waxy skin like they wanted nothing more than to break through it._

_Even with all that, though, the most horrific change she could find was in her eyes. They were dull, like all the joy and all the curiosity and love that Mayuri held for life had been stolen from her. They were empty, like the hopes, sorrows, fears, and personality had all been sucked from her tiny body until not even the withered husk of a soul remained. Even her constant fidgeting seemed to be gone._

_Mayuri stood in the middle of the arena, still as any corpse and seemingly waiting for something. Hiroko could feel Kabuto’s eyes on her, waiting for her to try something to let her sister know she was here, but Hiroko felt like she had been frozen. She couldn’t seem to find the breath needed to shout or the will to move._

_She gasped as another door opened and a child emerged from the darkness. Mayuri didn’t so much as tense. She just stood, face empty and back straight, tracking the other child’s movements like a predator._

_They met in the middle of the arena, eyeing each other. The newcomer looked wary as she faced off against Mayuri, despite being a good head taller. The fabric of Mayuri’s top rustled and bulged as the bones shifted beneath her skin, and the girl looked like she was trying and failing not to cringe away._

_A moment passed, and the two children in the arena became eerily still. Hiroko found herself holding her breath, eyes riveted on the scene before her, trying to wrap her head around what was happening. Hadn’t she seen something like this play out before? Hadn’t Mayuri refused to really hurt her opponent then? What was Orochimaru planning?_

_Then, he smiled and hissed, “ _begin_ ,” and it became clear. _

_Both girls lunged forwards, one with a bone chilling battle cry, the other silent as the grave. Mayuri’s opponent reared back, a kunai that Hiroko was certain hadn’t been there before appearing in her hand like it had been summoned from thin air. Mayuri hesitated at its appearance, just for a split second, but that was enough._

_Hiroko muffled her cry behind her hands, eyes enormous as the girl shoved her kunai into Mayuri’s gut. It found purchase just below her bellybutton, and in one smooth motion, she jerked upwards, all the way to Mayuri’s sternum. Blood bloomed across the front of her dirty tunic. The girl grimaced, shoving forward, trying to drive the kunai further into Mayuri’s body like gutting her just hadn’t been good enough._

_Hiroko jumped to her feet, ready to race down and rescue her sister herself. Kabuto was here, and he was talented enough that he could heal Mayuri if Hiroko could just get that girl away from her. Her hands were shaking, adrenaline taking over so fast that she couldn’t even find the will to scream._

_Her blind rush to get to the door was stopped as Kabuto caught hold of her, one hand wrapped tightly around her torso, pulling her flush against him. The other hand went to cover her mouth so she couldn’t scream, pressed tight enough that she couldn’t even open her mouth to sink her teeth into his palm. She struggled against him as he turned to face the window overlooking the arena, forcing her to watch her sister be eviscerated._

_“Just wait,” he whispered, his breath cool against the side of her neck. “Watch.”_

_She didn’t want to. But she couldn’t seem to look away as Mayuri went still, staring wide eyed down at the kunai like she was trying to process what had happened. Hiroko sobbed, the sound muffled by Kabuto’s hold._

_Then, Mayuri’s gaze jerked up to look her opponent in the eye. She cocked her head to the side, the move as animalistic as it was childlike. Hiroko watched, frozen with wonder as Mayuri darted forwards, her lips moving against the girl’s cheek as she whispered something no one else was privy to. The girl before her stumbled back, the confusion and the fear evident on her face._

_It was over in the blink of an eye. The girl was thrown back, her scream cut short as her head hit the stone floor. There were bones embedded shallowly in her chest from where Mayuri had been pressed so close and bones shoved through her arms like pikes, making it impossible for her to close her hands around her weapons. Blood was pooling around her, staining her blonde hair red and soaking into her clothes._

_Mayuri stood over her, fingers wandering across the split edges of her skin. Hiroko could see plated bone in the gap between the two pieces of her stomach, moving slightly with each breath she took. Mayuri’s fingers brushed over the bones that had formed beneath her skin, now exposed to the open air, and her brow furrowed like this was just a minor inconvenience._

_“Watch,” Kabuto repeated in her ear, pulling her tighter against him, pressing his hand so hard over her mouth she was going to bruise. She whimpered._

_“Do you want to kill your opponent?” Orochimaru’s voice echoed throughout the empty space hanging above their heads, loud despite how low and soft he spoke._

_Hiroko kept her eyes trained on Mayuri. Her sister fingered the ragged edges of her skin, cleaved in two in what would have certainly been a killing blow. Hiroko saw the exposed bones flex as Mayuri drew a deep breath. When she shook her head no, Hiroko felt pride rise to fill her chest at her sister’s strength, even when faced with something as awful as this._

_But Orochimaru wasn’t done. His smile widened, sharp and dangerous, as he said, “Will you follow my orders, my dear?”_

_“Yes, Orochimaru-sama.” Mayuri’s voice was a soft, rasping thing. She was barely audible despite the way that the arena had been designed to amplify every little sound._

_Orochimaru’s eyes flickered up, staring straight into the room adjacent his balcony. He locked eyes with Hiroko, and she watched the way his lips curled and his eyes glinted, satisfied and amused in a way that made her stomach lurch. He didn’t break eye contact as he commanded, “Kill her.”_

_Hiroko couldn’t even scream as the bone was driven through the girl’s eye. First one, then the other. Then it was shoved into her mouth and the sound of the skull cracking, of the stone beneath the girl’s head being broken, echoed throughout the cavern. All Hiroko could do was stare, shocked into numbness, unable to believe what she was seeing._

_And Mayuri just _stood there_. Staring. Waiting. Still and calm as blood formed a puddle beneath her feet. _

_There was silence for a long moment, the world holding its breath. Hiroko felt hollow with shock. Her heart was pounding away inside the emptiness of her chest, blood beating in her ears like war drums. She was lost, not sure what to do or how to handle what she had seen._

_“You’ve done well,” Orochimaru said. “So well, in fact, that I’ve decided to allow you a gift, just as promised.” He rose from his throne, robes flowing out behind him as he made his way towards the exit. He looked over his shoulder at them, eyes narrowed and his smile a slimy little thing. “Play nicely, girls.”_

_Then he was gone once again. Kabuto released his hold on Hiroko, and did not catch her as she stumbled and fell. She could feel her stomach churning, bile rising in her throat and coating her tongue. Under Kabuto’s scrutinizing gaze, she turned onto her side and wretched, half-digested food splattering all over the floor, over and over again, until she was left dry heaving._

_Kabuto waited patiently for her to be finished, dragging the back of her hand across her mouth and ignoring the snot and tears covering her face, before he said, “The door into the arena is right there. I’ll leave it up to you whether you go down or not.” He paused at the exit, turning back to watch her with a strange expression. The light reflected off the lens of his glasses, obscuring his eyes. “Happy birthday, Hiroko-chan.”_

_He left her there, curled over her own vomit and sobbing like a child. Like a six year old child, specifically. She hadn’t even realized that the day was coming up. Some broken, hysterical part of her wanted to laugh, because this was one hell of a birthday gift._

_She stayed like that a moment longer, trying to catch her breath and stop her tears. He had told her it was up to her, but there really was no choice. Pushing herself to her feet and trying to ignore the way her knees wobbled like a newborn fawn’s, Hiroko forced herself to go through the door and down the stairs._

_When she emerged into the open light, Mayuri turned to look at her. Hiroko froze, and bile rose in her throat all over again, because the emptiness on Mayuri’s face was still the most ominous thing she had ever seen. She swallowed it down and ignored the shaking in her limbs and the way her heart was trying to claw its way out of her chest. She pretended not to see the dead girl, choosing instead to keep her focus on Mayuri alone._

_(She hadn’t known that death had a smell.)_

_“Yuri?” she whispered. “Yuri, it’s me. I’m here.”_

_Mayuri took a step back. Her feet squished in the blood. She shook her head, her eyes going wide with dawning horror._

_“No,” she gasped. “He promised. He promised you wouldn’t have to do this!”_

_“Hey, hey.” Hiroko raised her hands, fingers splayed wide. “It’s okay. I’m here now. I’m fine.” Her eyes flickered to the mutilated body at her sister’s feet. “Come here, Yuri. Come over here. I’m here.”_

_“You’re here,” Mayuri repeated, slow, like she was tasting the words. “You’re safe.” She took a step forwards, then another. Her foot brushed the girl’s hand, blood already congealing beneath her fingernails and in the creases of her palm. Mayuri didn’t even pause to spare a glance towards the child she had killed and Hiroko tried to pretend she didn’t notice. She tried to pretend like she wasn’t shaking so hard she felt like she might collapse at any second. “You’re here,” Mayuri said, and she froze just a step away._

_It was the look on her face that had Hiroko rushing forward, dismay momentarily forgotten. The look on Mayuri’s face was that of a wounded animal, of someone so lost and hurt that they would just keep running away forever because they didn’t know what home was anymore. It was easy to forget her own fears, her horror and disgust, in the face of Mayuri disappearing from her once again._

_She threw her arms around Mayuri, pulling her tight. She ignored the way Mayuri went rigid, the way that bones shifted and sharpened beneath her skin, in the same way she was ignoring the dead child just a few meters away. If she thought about it too hard right now, she was going to lose her mind. She was going to start screaming and never, ever stop._

_“No,” Mayuri moaned, low and hurt. “You weren’t supposed to see. You weren’t supposed to ever _know…_.” She trailed off, her breath catching in her throat. She was shaking her head slowly, face rubbing roughly against Hiroko’s shoulder. What remained of her hair was greasy and matted, tickling against Hiroko’s neck as her body trembled and shook. “I’m sorry. I’m _sorry._ I’m _so fucking sorry.”__

_She had slipped into english, the words heavy on her tongue. There was something so horribly intimate about it, this language that only they two in this entire world could share. It made something inside Hiroko feel broken, and made this situation feel far too real._

_She closed her eyes and held her breath, and still she could taste the blood on her tongue every time she opened her mouth to speak._

_“This isn’t you,” she managed, pulling her sister’s shaking form closer and ignoring the tacky warmth of blood that soaked into the front of her tunic. Already the thought of looking nice for when she got to see Mayuri again seemed faded and distant, like it had happened a thousand years ago. It was nothing but a cruel irony, like everything in this world. She wet her lips before whispering, “You didn’t choose this, Mayuri. This isn’t on you.”_

_Her sister made a low keening noise. Then, suddenly, she was shoving against Hiroko’s chest, freeing herself from her grip. Mayuri stumbled backwards, tripping over her own feet and crashing to the ground. Her torn top had slipped further open, revealing skin that was covered in half healed scars, the product of someone who was still learning being forced to heal themselves over and over again. The skin of her stomach tore further with the sudden movement, and Hiroko had to fight back the bile that rose in her aching throat all over again as blood oozed across the exposed, unnatural bone._

_“It was me,” she whispered. “It was all me, Hiro. All of it.”_

_“What?”_

_Mayuri stared up at her with wide, haunted eyes. Her hands were held out before her, palms up. Blood glistened on her skin, sickeningly vivid in the too-bright lights of the arena. She seemed to be waiting for something: some accusation or absolution._

_Hiroko didn’t know what to do. She knew that for Mayuri, she would be willing to do far worse than look the other way. If it took hiding away every body her sister would leave in her wake past, present, and future, she knew she would do it. Then, she would be sure to tell Mayuri every single day that whatever she did, it was alright. Even if Mayuri would never be the same after, as long as she had her sister back, it didn’t matter if a whole river of blood was left in their wake._

_But Hiroko didn’t know how she could fix it right _now._ She didn’t know how to make the body of that little girl disappear, or how to make the pain in Mayuri’s eyes go away. As she stood there, covered in the blood of both her sister and the child her sister had killed, she had never felt so helpless. _

_She took a slow step forward, watching the emotions that flickered across Mayuri’s face as she did. It was like parts of her sister were beginning to return, now that the battle was over and Orochimaru and her opponent were both gone. Mayuri was gazing back, her eyes huge in her sallow face, until Hiroko felt a little bit like she could fall into the endless wells of green. As she drew closer and knelt down, Mayuri at last flinched away, releasing Hiroko from her hold._

_“Don’t!” she shrieked, shrinking in on herself. Hiroko paused, waiting for more. Mayuri licked her lips, not seeming to notice the blood on her face. “Don’t touch me. I’m not...I’m not _clean._ ”_

_She could feel her heart shattering like ice within her chest. For the first time, Hiroko thought that it might have been better for both of them if she had just killed that boy when Orochimaru told her to. Now, she had her sister’s blood on her hands. Neither of them were clean anymore._

_She moved closer and captured Mayuri’s hands between her own. She waited until Mayuri’s feeble attempts to pull away had calmed, waited until they could both breathe properly. She made sure she could talk without sobbing, that she could get through this without a single tear. Then she looked her sister in the eyes and said, low and stern, “I found you. I’m not going to let you go. I love you, no matter what you’ve done. Do you hear me? I love you.”_

_Mayuri’s eyes were like galaxies, sucking in the light around them like black holes and reflecting it back a thousandfold, brighter than any sun._

_The first few tears were accompanied by silence as they welled in her eyes and slipped down her cheeks. She nodded. Forced a smile._

_“I didn’t want to die,” Mayuri confided, voice hushed like her words were a secret. Like wanting to live was something to be ashamed of._

_The sound started low in her throat, rising in pitch and volume into a cry, then a scream, then an awful wailing like nothing Hiroko had ever heard before. It seemed to shake the stone around them and send ripples through the puddles of blood on the floor. She was shocked that the base wasn’t crumbling to pieces around them._

_She gathered her sister into her arms, holding her close as Mayuri at last allowed herself to release the years of grief that had been hidden away within her soul. She made soft, mindless sounds of comfort. Words of love and acceptance._

_All the while, her mind was spinning. Her eyes stayed dry._

_._

_Hours later found Hiroko leaning against Dosu, her knees unable to hold her up anymore. Mayuri had been taken away again, and no matter how hard she fought or how much she screamed, Hiroko hadn’t been able to do anything at all to stop it. Mayuri had just allowed it to happen, resignation apparent in the way she bowed her head and let her eyes go empty and distant._

_Dosu ran clumsy fingers through Hiroko’s hair, and the small sounds he made were easily distinguishable as ones of comfort despite the roughness of his voice. It did nothing to make her feel any better._

_All she could see were Mayuri’s trembling hands and the blood beneath her fingernails. She couldn’t hear anything but the echoes of her sister’s sobs, broken, like nothing she’d ever heard before. The haunted, hunted expression in Mayuri’s eyes was going to follow her into her nightmares._

_Hiroko pulled Dosu closer, burying her face in his chest. Her fingers curled in the fabric of his too-big shirt, like she was terrified that if she loosened her grip, he would be torn away, too._

_“Why—” she cut herself off as a sob ripped through her, hard enough that her whole body shook with its force._

_She shook her head violently as Dosu shushed her, pulling her in tighter. She was trembling, fat tears rolling down her cheeks as her breaths escaped her lungs in too-quick gasps. She wanted to shove him away, but couldn’t bear that thought of not having him close, either._

_“It’s always _her_ ,” she managed through her sobs. She felt Dosu go still. “Why is it always _her?”_ _

_“Hiro, it’s not—”_

_“She doesn’t deserve any of this shit! Why is it always her that has to suffer?”_

_She felt more than heard as Dosu sighed, his chest rising and falling beneath her cheek. His fingers began moving again, careful and slow as they combed through the knots in her hair. She could feel the exhaustion from the past two months rising to meet her, crashing over her all at once as her sobs slowly started to abate._

_“I’m sorry,” Dosu said just as her eyes began to flutter shut. She stiffened immediately, because there was something strange about his voice. “Mayuri doesn’t deserve any of this, but there’s...there’s nothing we can do, you know? Maybe it’s for the best. Adults know better than us about training, don’t they? And killing...death…. It’s all a part of becoming a shinobi, right?”_

_Hiroko pushed him away so fast that they both went sprawling. Dosu was watching her with wide eyes, confusion and his own kind of grief apparent in every minute movement and expression. Hiroko couldn’t bring herself to care that he was handling his hurt in his own way._

_“You don’t get to say that,” she snarled, pushing herself to her feet, her hands balled into tight fists. Dosu eyed her warily as he shifted into a crouch. “You didn’t see her, Dosu. Whatever they’re doing to her, it’s not _fucking training._ ”_

_“Hiroko, I don’t know what—”_

_“If you don’t know, then don’t try to justify it!”_

_She ignored his clumsy attempts at an apology as she spun on her heel and stormed from the room. An idea had been forming, remnants of a conversation between sisters in the dark that felt so long ago swirling within her mind. It was stupid. It was impossible._

_But it was all she could think to do, without betraying Mayuri’s sacrifice by asking to trade places with her._

_._

Requesting an audience with Orochimaru felt much like being a mouse willingly striding into the snake’s jaws. He watched her, curious and amused, smiling in a way that made her heart feel tight within her chest. It was like his venom was already running through her veins. 

She saw that amusement change to something sharper, curiosity to something more refined, as she made her request. He leaned forward, fingers steepling in his lap and his tongue darting out to moisten his lips. It reminded her of a slug, thick and wet and ugly. She very resolutely did not shudder. 

“An interesting proposition. You could be quite useful,” he hummed, his rasping voice almost musical with his piqued interest. “And your timing is impeccable." 

She had no idea what that could possibly mean. She stayed silent, but her confusion must have shown on her face. Orochimaru smiled, his eyes catching the torchlight and turning to molten gold. 

With his perfect hair, elegant features, and intense eyes, it was easy to see why the people of this village were so enraptured by him. He looked beautiful beyond the measure of any human standard, something otherworldly and entrancing. He was as alluring as he was deadly, and most of the adults probably weren’t sure whether the deciding factor of them coming to Otogakure was because of the promise of a better life, or because they fell in love with the Otokage as first sight. 

Hiroko wondered how it was that so many of them stayed loyal even after they saw the monster beneath Orochimaru’s ethereal guise. He was charming as any snake, but she doubted that that alone would be enough to allow anyone to fully overlook what happened in the darker parts of this village. She wasn’t looking forward to having her teenage hormones back; They made people do stupid shit for the sake of a pretty face. 

“Come, my child.” He stood, gliding close and offering her a hand. His smile was as oily as ever, yet she still couldn’t help but feel warmed by it being directed solely at her. She hated herself for it. “We will have much walking to do.” 

“Wait!” 

He arched one shapely eyebrow in a silent question and she wondered briefly if he got them done, and if so, whether she could get hers done as well. (Fuck, she needed to sleep.) Hiroko took a breath and met his eye, trying to channel the authoritative tone Mayuri always used when she was subtly ordering others around during their D-Ranks. 

“Mayuri has to be freed. She has to come, too.” 

His eyes burned as he turned away, withdrawing his offered hand. There was a sharp little smile, the barest hint of teeth, as he said, “If the rumors I’ve heard are correct, she will be freed. Her abilities may have just become far rarer than ever before.” 

Hiroko watched him walk away, and while he never looked harried or stressed, she did note that he was moving a fair bit faster than normal. She frowned, wondering what that could possibly mean. There was no time to think too much on it, though, because Orochimaru was already out the door and Hiroko had to run to catch up to him. 

They walked together through the halls, Hiroko almost jogging to keep up. Whatever was happening was unusual enough to have garnered Orochimaru’s attention, and valuable or interesting enough to have him hurrying. Whatever it was, it had to be big. 

Her brow creased in confusion as they entered into a passageway that she had never been in before. It had been hidden, tucked away into a crevice in the wall where shadows played over it just so, making the eye slide over it. She wanted desperately to ask him what the hell they were doing, but something stilled her tongue. 

She followed silently along behind him, her uncertainty and anxiety mounting with each step as she was left wondering where, exactly, he was taking her. It was probably stupid of her to have allowed herself to follow without a word of protest. She knew she could do nothing to take it back now, though. 

The passageway stretched on and on, seemingly into forever. For the first few moment of walking, Hiroko found herself craning around to see every bit of it, but after a while she stopped, realizing that it never seemed to change appearances. The smell of the tunnel, though, was an entirely different story. 

It was subtle at first. Barely noticeable at all. But the air was becoming warmer and fresher. It didn’t have the slightly stale taste of air that had been recycled over and over again, forced through vents into an underground ninja hideout. 

Then came the moisture, condensation dripping down walls and onto the sparsely placed torches, making them sizzle and smoke. The smell of rain hit her, hanging heavy in the back of her throat. The nostalgia that came with it was almost enough to blow her over. 

It wasn’t until she saw the light from up ahead, pure and steady and bright enough to hurt her eyes, that it hit her what was going on. 

For the first time since she had woken up in Otogakure, _she was going outside._

But she was going without Mayuri. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOLY WORDCOUNT, BATMAN! This is almost 15,000 words, more than three times longer than my usual updates. I might cry. But here you are! Hope it didn't disappoint. This is an extra special thanks to everyone who took the time to comment after my little bitchfit last author's note. Lol. Thank you so much everyone for helping to inspire me by leaving such wonderful and often thought-provoking reviews.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who reads this. Thank you to everyone who bookmarks and leaves kudos. You all mean the world to me. <3
> 
> Here's a friendly reminder that I'm looking for a beta or two! Basically, I need someone who doesn't mind spoilers so much that I could toss ideas around with, who can read over what I've got as I'm writing and might be willing to offer feedback. Also, someone who's good with grammar, because eehhhh. I'm not. These positions don't necessarily have to be filled by the same person. Lol. Just let me know in a PM or comment if you're interested!
> 
> To answer some questions left by a guest!
> 
> 1- Mayuri is the elder sister, Hiroko is the younger. In their previous lives, Mayuri is Avery, Hiroko is Elle.
> 
> 2- Mayuri died first and is also the one who knew more about the Naruto verse, although she never finished the series. Hiroko knew it only in passing and from watching the show on tv when she was younger.
> 
> 3- About Kabuto and why he is able to be in the village so often, it's because I sort of headcanon that his whole team was in on the double agent ruse. In the anime during the chunin exam arcs, we see that none of them are particularly nice people and don't seem bothered by some of the shadier things that go down. So I figure that in order to keep their cover while also maintaining their position/responsibilities in Oto, they probably take on fake C-Rank missions. While they're supposedly off escorting a merchant or playing guard for someone, they're actually in Oto doing their thing. There might be some suspicion back in Konoha, but there's no proof of anything. They bring back the proper pay, and all their reports and stories line up perfectly. Plus they're just a team of Genin so they tend to get overlooked anyways. And that's my excuse for why Kabuto is in the village so often! Ta-da!
> 
> And now, some personal life updates! I'm officially moved out of my grandma's place and back home. It's nice to be back, though sometimes it's a struggle being with so many people all of a sudden. I've found a job that I'm really loving so far! However, it is time consuming and extremely stressful, and kind of dangerous sometimes. I saw my supervisor get a chunk of her hair ripped out the other night by an angry client. Not fun. So basically what I'm saying is that I'm going to try to be writing more now that I'm home, but work might get in the way.
> 
> If you read this far, you deserve a reward to be honest. This author's note is practically as long as the chapter.
> 
> Next time, you'll get to see Mayuri's side of the story! I hope you're looking forward to the pain! :)


	24. Say Goodbye to Who I Was

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for torture, mentions of human trafficking, and child death.

“We’ll be alright!” Hiroko yelled as Mayuri walked away. Her voice was tiny and lisping, yet it seemed to fill the cavern with its intensity. “I love you! I love you, and I’ll find a way to get you back! I promise!”

Mayuri ignored the way her heart seemed to stutter inside her chest. There was something dangerous inside that promise, an intensity that left her worried but warmed. Hiroko could be fierce and protective, and it made Mayuri love her all the more, but her sister could also be reckless. Hiroko was dangerous in her convictions. 

“I’ll be back, Hiro. I promise.”

The words tasted like ash in her mouth. She could hear the way Hiroko’s breath hitched, see the desperation and fear in her eyes. There were tears welling in her own eyes despite her best efforts to stop them, and she could only hope Hiroko didn’t see as they spilled over. Mayuri didn’t want her to worry, or to know just how afraid she was.

As the door shut behind her, she could hear the beginnings of Hiroko’s cries. It made her heart feel tight in her chest. Her throat seemed to be closing up as she fought back her own sobs; she had managed to really fuck this up, but she didn’t know what else she was supposed to do. 

She couldn’t kill that boy. There was no way in hell she would have been able to. Just the thought made Mayuri feel sick. Even so, she probably shouldn’t have snapped at Orochimaru like that. She shouldn’t have drawn his attention in the first place. She should have just kept working through her pain and exhaustion, so he didn’t have any reason to take notice of her in the first place.

She grit her teeth and clenched her fists, feeling the bones – both beneath her skin and not – shift and grow with her agitation. Only a few minutes had passed, and already she could feel the weight of regret and uncertainty resting heavy on her shoulders. Her knees felt almost too weak to continue holding her up, trembling with the leftover dregs of adrenaline and desperation. Still, she pressed on.

The bones that had curled their way around her shoulders and neck were shaken off, and they clattered loudly to the stone. The hollow sound echoed throughout the passageway and Kabuto paused briefly to glance over his shoulder at her, brow furrowing slightly as he noted the bones littering the floor around her.

“You’ll scare someone half to death like that,” he said, though he didn’t sound particularly concerned with the idea.

Mayuri simply shrugged in response. Some distant part of her felt a little bit bad about just leaving the misshapen bones there for some random person to stumble upon, the same kind of guilt she got at the thought of littering, like her body parts were just the same as crumpled wrappers and empty cups. She shook the feeling off quickly, knowing that if she stopped to pick her own bloodied bones off the floor, she would collapse right on the spot and not be able to continue moving forwards. Kabuto hummed, before shrugging as well and continuing on.

“I’ll have Risa collect them later,” he decided. His voice was soft and airy, as though he was just thinking aloud. Mayuri could practically feel the way the words were pointed, though, directed right at her. “After all, they’re harder than most metals. I’m sure she could find some use for them, since you discard them so easily.”

It was almost comical, just how dark the thought was. If she wouldn’t kill someone for them, they would still find a way to make her body serve the same purpose. It was almost a gloat. _We get what we want, one way or the other._

Still, she was too stubborn and too upset to change her mind now. Turning around and kneeling to gather up her discarded bones would feel too much like conceding to defeat of some kind, so she just shrugged again and made a noncommittal little humming sound. She wondered if Hiroko would recognize the glistening white of her bones, if she found herself painting them after they had been turned into tools for the village. 

That seemed morbid. Mayuri wanted to laugh again, and she also wanted to slam her fist against the wall, through the wall, bring the entire base crumbling down around her as she howled with mirth. Instead she just walked silently behind Kabuto, waiting for him to speak and unwilling to break her own silence. The halls were empty. She was cold. 

He lead her on a roundabout route, going down halls she didn’t know and through empty doorways and entrances hidden by rocks and shadows. As they walked further into unfamiliar territory, beginning to pass through heavy doors unlocked by a burst of chakra and never once seeing another living soul, she felt her head hanging lower and her steps growing heavier. She hadn’t even realized she’d been hoping that someone would try to save her until that hope was slipping from between her fingers.

The caverns they passed through seemed to stretch on endlessly, darkness lapping at their corners, throwing the ceiling into impossible yawning emptiness. Their route had no rhyme or reason, unlike the village, whose passages were laid out like a maze but were easy to naviagate once one had lived there long enough and learned the tricks. These passages and caverns, though undeniably part of Orochimaru’s domain, were not a part of the village that she had tentatively begun thinking of as home. The realization only served to make her more nervous, a creeping certainty that death was not the only thing planned for her future.

The passages grew damp and cool, much to her shock. Moisture gathered on the walls and glistened like crystals in the flickering light. The smell of dirt and earth tickled her senses, the first hint of the outside world she had felt in years. She was so used to the careful climate control and filtered air of Otogakure that the sudden sensation of damp and dry, earth and dirt, left her nose twitching like she needed to sneeze. 

The thought that perhaps they were going outside made her head spin. 

“What are we doing?” she asked, forgetting for a second her stubborn silence. Kabuto didn’t even seem to notice her speaking, continuing on like she hadn’t said a word. She made a face, lips pursing and brow furrowing. “If you’re leading me to certain doom, I’d rather know about it now.” 

“Do you think this is a joke?” he asked, mild and pleasant. It made chills climb her spine despite the unusual warmth of the air around her. She chewed her lip and tasted blood, swallowing down the nervous babbling that wanted to spill from her mouth.

“I think I’m probably going to get hurt if I think it’s anything less than serious.”

“You’re going to die if you try to treat this like a game,” he corrected, and Mayuri faltered at his bluntness. She was so used to his pretty words and careful mask that that sort of honestly was shocking. Then, it sunk in what he was trying to say, and she froze. Kabuto turned to face her, his expression grave as he continued. “You either take this seriously, or you and everyone you love will suffer for it.”

“Oh.” The word was barely a breath. Her mind felt blank, all the worries and plans falling away in the face of this revelation. Her knees felt weak, and some distant part of her wondered what Kabuto was thinking as he watched her try to process his words. He seemed to be waiting for something, but when she gave no further reaction, Kabuto simply turned away and started walking again.

She had no choice but to follow, eyes bleary and legs trembling slightly with each step. Some part of her brain was foggy, convinced that this was nothing more than a nightmare, just another elaborate dream. It was so hard to tell them from reality, sometimes. The stones digging into the soles of her bare feet and the way her nails bit into her palms, as muted as the sensations were, reminded her that this was reality. She couldn’t afford to keep messing up, not if she wanted to keep herself and Hiroko and Dosu safe. 

They passed through hallways lined with bars, eyes staring out at them from the darkness within. Voices hissed and spat curses at them as they passed, most of the ruckus directed at Kabuto. The boy didn’t so much as flinch, but Mayuri couldn’t help the anxiety that crept within her at the killing intent that filled these hallways. 

A few more halls, and they reached what looked like a cell block. It felt like a scene right out of a horror movie. The torches were spaced out to throw entire sections of the halls into overwhelming darkness, and there were countless voices whispering and sobs echoing down the halls. It smelled like blood and piss and sweat. As Kabuto took his first step into the torchlight, Mayuri trailing behind him, there was a shrill whistle from somewhere down the block. Immediately, everything fell into absolute silence. It was like people were afraid to even breathe. 

Mayuri felt her mouth go dry. Even with everything she had seen and experienced in this world, even after seeing Kabuto cruel and cold, it was still strange to wrap her mind around the idea that people could be so very scared of him. Sure, the people of Otogakure were wary of the boy genius, but it was nothing like the kind of fear that could cause this earth-shattering silence or the rage from the previous halls.

“Kabuto, what’s going—” she began, only to cut herself off at the look he gave her. It was a sharp warning to be quiet, his eyes narrowed and glinting like shrapnel and his lips pressed into a tight, severe line. She didn’t know if he was giving her that look because of the familiarity with which she spoke to him, or because she dared to speak at all. Either way, she heeded the silent warning and swallowed down her questions and kept her mouth shut.

The last thing she wanted was to give him or anyone else any more reason to get her in trouble. He led her down the hall, and as they passed by each of the cells, she couldn’t help but stare at the shadowy figures that lingered just beyond the bars. A few stared back, the bloodshot whites of their eyes all she could see within the shadows of their faces. Most of them just kept their heads down as she and Kabuto passed by. 

They stopped in front of a cell that looked just like every single other one. A yawning hole in the cave wall, covered in bars and seals. The only thing that distinguished this cell from the others was a series of markings she couldn’t read carved above the entrance, along with its number, 4. 

As she watched, Kabuto formed a series of handsigns too fast for her eyes to follow. He murmured something, his voice low and smooth, and pressed a hand to one of the seals positioned near the center of the bars. From within the cell, a cacophony of soft voices rose. It sent a shiver down her spine. 

As the bars began to retract, Kabuto called, “If any one of you tries anything, everyone will suffer for it.” The countless shadows shifted in a nervous, seething mass as Kabuto took a step inside, sharp eyes scanning over them like he could pick out individuals through the darkness. “Come here, Saya-chan.”

There was a pause, the voices falling silent and the shadows going still. Then, a figure emerged from the darkness and stepped forwards into the dim light. The mass of shadows began moving again, the whispers picking back up, but so quietly that Mayuri couldn’t make out anything that was being said. 

Saya was tall and broad, with long, messy, teal curls. Despite the grime that covered every inch of her like an extra layer of skin, she was pretty in a way that seemed out of place in this dark, dank place. Her eyes were a glowing blue, radiant even in the darkness, and when she smiled, Mayuri could see fangs. 

“What can I do for you?” Saya asked, her voice low and sweet and poisonous. Her luminous eyes were trained on Mayuri, and she seemed hungry in a way that food could never satisfy. Mayuri resisted the urge to hide behind Kabuto like a child. 

“This is Mayuri-chan,” Kabuto said, stepping aside and pushing her forwards with a hand on her shoulder. “I want you to show her the ropes and explain to her what is happening. Answer any questions she has.”

“How exciting,” Saya murmured, licking her lips. She glanced towards Kabuto, her eyes half lidded, and smiled coyly. She seemed to be practically purring as she said, “I’ll be sure to do my best, Kabuto-kun.”

Kabuto frowned, just the slightest downwards twitch at the corner of his lips. Quick as a striking snake, his hand darted out and grabbed Saya by the front of her ragged shirt. He dragged her towards him, somehow managing to scowl down at her despite the fact that she was a few inches taller. She shrunk back, eyes going wide and the smile frozen on her lips.

“If anything happens to her outside of the arena, you will only wish you were dead,” he hissed. Mayuri wondered distantly if he had learned that particular trick from Orochimaru. It was certainly having a similar effect, if the way that the girl whimpered was any indication. Kabuto’s mouth curled into the cruel imitation of a smile and he released his hold, sending Saya stumbling backwards. “I’m glad we’re on the same page.”

Saya straightened her top and fluffed her messy hair, like she was trying to regain some sense of dignity. Kabuto watched her, bored expression and cold eyes, and then he stepped back out of the light. Mayuri turned to watch him go, and she was too scared to even make a move to follow after him.

He left without a word or backwards glance, and that stung like betrayal. 

The whispers persisted as the echoes of his footsteps faded, rising and falling like the tide, too many voices mingling until she couldn’t actually understand anything that was being said. She could feel tears slipping down her face as the bars closed over the cell’s entrance, trapping her inside with Saya and the ones that formed the shadow. She took a deep, shuddering breath, and wiped her cheeks. 

Saya turned to look down at her, lips curling like she wanted to scowl but was forcing herself to smile. Under that twisted expression, Mayuri couldn’t help but feel very small. Mentally, she had probably a good 15 years on this girl. Physically, however, she was years younger and at least a foot smaller. Her tiny size and young age were going to be all that Saya and anyone else in this cavernous cell were going to see, and that was all that was going to matter. It was going to make her a target, more likely than not. 

Intimidation wasn’t going to do her any good here, not until she could do something to prove that she could back up any threats she made. From what she could make out, the individuals that made up the mass of shadows were all small. Young. She wouldn’t be able to use her age to gain any sympathy, either. It really didn’t leave many options, besides….

She took a deep breath, swallowed down the fear rising in her throat, and bowed low. She could feel herself trembling and wished it was easier to hide. She pasted on the brightest smile she could manage, making sure it reached her eyes. When she spoke, it was light and cheerful, loud enough to reach the majority of the people lurking just beyond her circle of light despite the fact that she was addressing the ground.

“My name is Mayuri. It’s a pleasure to meet you!”

Using a clan name was a risk she wasn’t willing to take just yet. If someone held a grudge or wanted to challenge a child from a clan, it would make her an immediate target. However, later on, once she knew people one-on-one, the prestige that came along with bearing the name of one of Water Country’s noble clans might benefit her. It was much smarter to stay anonymous for now. She needed people to like her, if she was going to get through this ordeal without getting hurt.

Speaking of which, she still needed to actually find out what was going on. She had no idea what any of this was, other than the ominous warning that it was a very serious matter. She had a sneaking suspicion about what was going to happen, but she was very resolutely ignoring the terror clawing at her brain until she knew for sure that this was another kind of horrific experimentation.

“I’m sorry, but would you please explain what’s going on? Kabuto-san didn’t tell me anything before bringing me here.” It was easy to slip into the routine of wide-eyed sincerity, overt politeness, and a sweet and soothing tone of voice. It was usually the easiest mask to wear, one she had donned frequently in both lives. She liked to think it was close to the real her, even though most days she found it hard to know for sure. She usually just felt hollow, if she stopped to think on it too hard. 

“You’re fucked,” Saya spat back, much to Mayuri’s surprise. After a pause, though, she added, “And also lucky you’ve got this chance.”

Mayuri blinked wide eyes at her, and hoped that the blood leftover from the fight just a little while before didn’t detract from her friendly visage. “What do you mean?” 

“I mean that not a lot of people get the opportunity you’re gonna get down here. If you win enough fights and get Orochimaru-sama or any of the big names’ attention, you’ve got a shot at being a shinobi of Otogakure.”

Mayuri wisely did not say, _“I was already in the academy for that, so I’ll just head back and finish that up instead, thanks,”_ no matter how much she wanted to. Obviously, since she had already been on the more hygienic and less creepy fast track to that exact goal, that was not the reason she was down here. Which brought her right back around to the thought that this was either punishment or a lesson of some kind. Or an experiment. Maybe all three.

She wished she was better at getting into people’s heads. It would make this whole situation, and many others, so much easier. Even as that thought crossed her mind, though, she realized how useless it was. After all, she wished she could stop the nervous twitching and the way her teeth chattered when she was scared. She wished she could stop seeing old eyes in the mirror or waking from dreams calling for people that never came. Wishing hadn’t done her any good for the past couple years, and that probably wasn’t going to change, so she shook the thought from her mind and instead smiled up at Saya like her words were the best news she’d ever heard. 

“Really? That would be so cool!” she gushed, only to falter slightly as the forced smile dropped off Saya’s face.

“You won’t last two days,” she sighed, almost too soft for Mayuri to hear. Then, she turned on her heel and marched forwards, disappearing into the shadows. Mayuri could still hear her clearly, though, as she called out, “Follow me, you little twerp.”

Mayuri rushed to obey, stumbling over her own feet as she went. As she stepped out of the pool of torchlight and her eyes adjusted to the darkness, the mass of shadows became more easily separated into individuals of all shapes and sizes. Every single face she could see was young, watching her warily, sizing her up. She smiled shyly at anyone who made eye contact. No one smiled back.

“Stick close to me,” Saya ordered from somewhere up ahead. When she turned to glance over her shoulder to check that Mayuri was keeping up, her eyes were still glowing despite the darkness. It would make her easier to keep track of, hopefully. “You’re gonna get hurt if you wander off alone.”

If the eyes watching her from gaunt, hungry faces were any indication, her fellow cellmates were eager to do far more than just hurt her. Mayuri fought to keep any indication of fear off her features, ignored the way her legs shook and her teeth chattered, and practically glued herself to Saya’s side, smiling despite the scowl that the other girl sent her way. 

.

When she woke up the next day, there was a moment of confusion. She was curled against a warm body, and the warm golden rays of early morning sunshine were right in her eyes. For one short, glorious, painful moment, she thought that the last few years had been nothing but a dream. She was home, and she and her fiance had just fallen asleep on the floor after marathoning the newest season of American Horror Story the night before. The soreness was because of work and nothing more. It smelled funny because the new puppy was still in the process of being housetrained. For a second, everything was perfect.

But then reality hit her. The memories rushed back in, the reality of her situation crushing her beneath its burden. She scooted away from Saya, who she had apparently pressed herself against sometime in the night, and curled in on herself. She squeezed her eyes shut and fought back the tears that were burning beneath her eyelids. She told herself that this overwhelming sense of loss was nothing new, and she needed to suck it up. 

For a moment, she tried to go back to sleep. She wanted to forget again, to pretend that she was home and safe and loved. The stone floor and the chilly air and the too-bright light made it hard to do so. 

She sat up, eyes flying open. _Bright light?_ There had only been the shadowed, flickering light of torches for so long. This was new, familiar and comforting. This was—

Sunlight. Her eyes went wide, a hand rising to press over her mouth at the sight of warm golden light filtering in through cracks in the ceiling above and illuminating the cavern. It was splotchy and dappled, casting darker shadows wherever its light didn’t reach. It should have seemed ominous. It should have filled her heart with dread to see the darkness encroaching in new and even more stifling ways. Where there was light, the darkness only grew more overpowering.

As she held a trembling hand out to catch the golden rays in her palm, Mayuri couldn’t help the smile that spread over her face or the tears that finally overflowed. The sunshine danced as the breeze blew so close overhead and shifted leaves that she could not see or hear or touch. Mayuri couldn’t help but think that it was the most beautiful thing she had seen since the first time she had met with Hiroko, whole and alive. 

Somehow, this gentle reminder that there was a world outside these stone walls worked to fill her chest with something light and bubbling. It didn’t drive away the despair, but it did work to taper it and make it more manageable. She smiled, and allowed herself a moment of hope. 

.

They called it The Underground. Though it was connected to the village proper through an intricate maze of secret tunnels, the people being held in The Underground weren’t actually considered citizens of Otogakure. They did, however, all aspire to become citizens, which was usually achieved through winning bloody battles that were occasionally to the death. It would have made for an interesting book or show, one full of action and adventure and glory, back in her world.

In this world, though, it was a miserable and horrific existence. There was nothing glamorous or exciting about it. All but a very select few went to bed hungry and scared, woke up to the smell of piss and blood and unwashed bodies, and lived every moment wondering if they were about to be called to the arena to die. The few who didn’t were called the “Champions” by the other kids. They were the ones who beat every opponent they were faced with, and were known for being ruthless and cruel. They were more likely to get more to eat and had special privileges not afforded to others. They were the ones most likely to achieve their goal of leaving The Underground and becoming shinobi. The Champions were the people that everyone wanted to be. 

At least, that was how Saya explained it. She was probably at least a little biased, though, considering she was one.

“If you’re one of the champions, then why are you babysitting me?” Mayuri asked, lips pursed. She was sitting cross-legged in front of Saya, watching the older girl eat a piece of bread she had plucked out of Mayuri’s hand. Saya frowned, then rolled her luminescent eyes in an attempt to cover up her displeasure. 

“I lost my last two fights,” Saya admitted through a mouthful, crumbs falling from her lips into her lap. “I’ve won enough that it’s not a huge deal, but they probably wanted to prove a point or something.” She shrugged, not meeting Mayuri’s eyes. 

Mayuri hummed, trying to ignore the way her belly was growling with hunger. She had only missed dinner and breakfast so far, but her stomach already felt empty. Saya was turning out to be kinder than she had originally let on, but she didn’t seem like she was planning on sharing food anytime soon, much to Mayuri’s disappointment. She couldn’t even imagine the hunger that these children faced every moment, though she was likely going to be finding out very soon. The trepidation that coiled in the hollow of her belly at the thought made her feel weak and soft. 

What kind of a person was she, that she felt worried about one missed meal while surrounded by children who had been on the verge of starvation for who knew how long?

There was a lull in conversation as Mayuri found herself lost in thought and Saya kept chewing on her bread, looking like she was also mulling something over. All around them, the sounds of young voices echoed. There was squabbling and laughter, children chatting quietly amongst themselves or shouting to be heard from halfway across the cell. Sunlight fell from the ceiling in patches, and when Mayuri looked closely, she could see that there were tree roots breaking through the stone ceiling. 

It was all somehow rather idyllic, like a scene from a Ghibli movie. If not for the lingering smell of fear and blood, the way that no one’s eyes ever really stopped moving suspiciously over anyone who came too near, and the shroud of uncertainty that had settled heavily over her, she might have even preferred this place to Otogakure proper. She watched dust motes as they caught in a beam of glorious sunlight, and thought it was a shame that it was so beautiful in this cell.

Saya finished off her crust of bread and stood, stretching her arms above her head. Mayuri watched her with hooded eyes, curious but wary. Kabuto had explicitly stated that she was supposed to remained unharmed for the time being, but she also didn’t trust any of the kids in here to actually care much about that threat. Kids didn’t tend to think ahead, after all, and traumatized ones were even less likely to consider the repercussions of their actions in the heat of the moment. The last thing she wanted was to get her throat slit by a particularly ambitious toddler. Saya blinked down at her, lips pursed.

“What are you waiting for, stupid? I’m going to show you around. You need to wash that blood off you.” 

Mayuri blushed, scrambling to her feet. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she acknowledged that she was more embarrassed about the bloodstains than the fact she had been chided by the other girl. So far Saya had really only shown her the rows of holes where people used the bathroom, and the spot she and a few of her friends had claimed as a resting place. The bed she could survive without. The indoor plumbing, though….

Well, she had hazy memories of having to pee in the woods on camping trips when she was little the first time around. She already knew she would miss proper toilets and running water more than almost anything else. She bit back a sigh and followed obediently behind Saya as she led the way, trying to act like she didn’t notice the eyes that followed her the whole way, gleaming with any mix of suspicion, curiosity, or disdain.

The sound of moving water grew louder as Saya led her deeper into the cavern-like cell. Mayuri would never have guessed that the place was this big when she had first seen it, but as they wound through the milling bodies, Mayuri got the chance to take in just how expansive it was. She wondered how anyone could keep track of this many children in such a place. Could someone just refuse to come when they were called forth, and disappear into the stalagmites and creeping vines forever? 

She shook the thoughts from her head almost as soon as they appeared. Maybe if she just had to worry about herself, it would be different and she could try to figure some way out of this mess. She had more than just herself to think about, though. Hiroko and Dosu were still in Otogakure, were still just as much at Orochimaru’s mercy as she herself was. If she messed up then it very well could be turned around and used as just one more way to justify hurting her sister and their friend.

“C’mon, stupid,” Saya snapped, giving her a rough shove. Mayuri blinked, surprised to find that they had stopped moving. Saya was staring down at her, her glowing eyes narrowed and her lips pursed. The expression seemed to be one of her favorites to make. “Are you going to bathe or not?”

Mayuri smiled at her, offering an awkward apology and a sincere thank you. Then, she turned towards the pool of water before her, taking it in with a muted sense of wonder. Water trickled down the wall from the ceiling and into a pit. The water was murky enough that she couldn’t make out how deep it was, though it smelled clean and fresh. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she was calculating just how much emotion to show, whether she should make it obvious how interested she was in her new environment or hide everything she felt behind sweet smiles and a roll-with-the-punches attitude. 

It turned out it didn’t matter much, because between one step and the next, Saya shoved her forwards. She fell into the pool with a high-pitched yelp and rose to the surface sputtering, undignified and wide-eyed as she fought off an immediate sense of panic. She gaped up at Saya, who was laughing in a way that didn’t strike her as cruel at all, which was...unexpected. She could hear the full bodied laughter echoed by the nearby children, who were watching with bright eyes despite the hunger in their faces and blood beneath their nails. 

Was this...hazing of some sort? There was something so endearing about the little giggles that filled her ears and the way smiles stretched across dirty faces. Despite the freezing water and her soaked clothes, Mayuri found herself laughing as well as she pushed dual-colored hair out of her eyes and grinned up at Saya through chattering teeth.

“What, you don’t want to join me for a bath?” 

Saya shook her head, the blue of her eyes like neon lights as she tried to stifle her laughter, sharp teeth bared in a wide smile. She stepped back from the splash of water that Mayuri tried to nail her with with agile grace. Mayuri could already feel her walls beginning to crumble away and wanted to curse her soft spot for kids; this was exactly why she had tried to distance herself from the majority of her classmates.

“Give me your clothes,” Saya said, holding a hand out with the air of one who expected her orders to be followed without question. Her lips were still curled in a grin. “I’ll hang them up. They won’t dry, but at least you won’t be stuck with dripping clothes.” 

Though the order surprised her, it made sense. The underground air, though tempered by the sunshine, was still chilly. The last thing she needed was to be stuck in sopping wet clothing. The murky water was up to her armpits, and it wasn’t like she really had anything to hide in a body so young anyways. She didn’t exactly want to wander around naked, but she could survive a moment without clothes. Probably everyone in this cell did the same thing, anyways. As she stripped off her tunic, she told herself firmly that it was no big deal.

It wasn’t until after she’d handed over her clothes that it occurred to her that Saya didn’t have to give them back if she didn’t want to. She watched the girl walk away to find a sunny spot to put them, then sighed, sinking further into the water. She could only hope that nothing funny would come of this.

The water was cold enough that she could feel her teeth beginning to chatter, but not unbearable. She could feel the pull of a current at her feet, and wondered if that was how the water stayed relatively clean. It made her feel a little better about the dried blood and grime that she was scrubbing off her body and into what she could only assume was a source of both drinking water and bath water. She felt a little more alive as she scrubbed her skin clean, listening to the steady trickle of water and the rise and fall of voices all around her. 

It was almost relaxing. If the water was warmer, she probably would have been content to just laze around in the pool for hours. As it was, though, the chill soon chased her from the water’s depths and towards the edge of the pool. The water lapped at her hips as she levered herself further out of it and scanned the strangers all around her for a sign of bushy blue hair or glowing eyes. Saya seemed to have disappeared, though.

“Someone took your clothes?” someone asked, soft and gruff. Mayuri blinked, turning to find the source of the voice, water sloshing as she moved. Her eyes zeroed in on a boy crouched nearby, watching her with narrowed eyes. His black hair was messy, falling around his shoulders in course waves and with bangs long enough that they hung in his eyes. There was an amused tilt to his mouth as he waited for her to answer, and after a second, she nodded. He grunted, and his mouth curved into a sharp, cruel grin. “You’ll learn pretty quick that everyone here is an asshole.”

His blunt statement startled a giggle out of her, which seemed to surprise him in turn. His dark eyes narrowed, and he pulled the blanket he had wrapped around his shoulders a little closer. 

“Thanks for the warning,” she told him, letting herself sink back into the water. He squinted, unsure whether she was sincere or mocking him. Mayuri made sure to brace her feet on the ground and lock her knees, just in case he wanted to try to push her head beneath the water. 

“It wasn’t supposed to be a favor,” the boy pointed out, nose wrinkling with his scowl. 

“Well, I appreciate it anyway,” she said with a shrug. She considered him, lips pursed, and he stared back unblinkingly. She shivered, tried to relax her muscles to keep her teeth from chattering, and eyed the boy. Well, it wasn’t like she really had anything to lose at this point, she decided. “Hey, do you think I could borrow your blanket for a moment? Please? Just until I can find where my clothes ended up.”

It was almost funny, the way his reactions played out over his entire body. The boy jerked back, face twisted like he’d just tasted something sour. There was surprise in the widening of his eyes and annoyance in the way they narrowed soon after. She waited, watching him with a soft smile and warm eyes that were worn like a mask. 

“Why the hell would I give you anything? Didn’t I just tell you that everyone here is an asshole?”

“Well, yeah. But I figured that if you were taking the time to give me some advice then you might want to keep up your streak of good deeds. I just need it until I can find something to wear. You can follow right behind me to make sure you get it back, if you want. Please?”

She could see the gears turning in his head, like he was weighing his options. There was a spark of cunning hidden behind his youthful features, an age to his eyes that made her at once wary and curious. She crossed her arms on the ledge and rested her cheek on them, never taking her eyes off the boy, her smile gentle and patient and carefully kept in place. The stone was cold and smooth beneath her skin, and she could feel the water leaching more of her warmth with every passing second. Her hair was plastered to her back, the tips of it dipping into the water and swaying with the gentle current. She didn’t really have any other option but to wait, though, unless she wanted to wander through the crowds of people butt naked. (She really did not want to do that.)

She would make sure to keep her underwear next time. It was turning out to have been a really stupid idea to have just handed everything over on blind faith alone. Live and learn the second time around, apparently.

Finally, the boy groaned, his head tipping back dramatically. “You owe me one,” he said, and Mayuri’s grin stretched wider, knowing she was getting what she had asked for. Definitely for a price, but that could be figured out a little later. For the time being, she was mostly concerned with getting out of the water and finding her only pair of clothes. He pulled the blanket from his shoulders and held it out while Mayuri scrambled out of the water, her hair dripping and leaving a puddle by the side of the pool. She noted that beneath the loose, too-long sleeves of the boy’s top, his shoulders were unusually broad and sort of lumpy.

She sighed as she accepted the scratchy blanket and wrapped it tightly around her. It was warm from the heat of his body, and she gladly snuggled into it and hoped that the shivers that wracked her body would stop soon. She thanked the boy profusely as she moved further away from the pool, and she could hear him grumbling behind her, matching her step for step as she searched the cavern for Saya. She could feel his eyes on her, tiny pinpricks at the back of her neck. She shuddered as the bones in her back shifted beneath her skin, reacting to her paranoia that this strange boy might try to attack her from behind. 

Mayuri fell back a step so they were walking side-by-side, instead. The boy eyed her, nose scrunched up and lips pressed into a tight line. He seemed like even he wasn’t sure why it was he was walking with her. If she looked carefully, she could see strange movement from beneath the fabric of his sleeves. Either he was hiding several animals in his shirt (which was always a possibility, she supposed) or he had some kind of kekkei genkai that affected his arms. Mayuri smiled at him, and introduced herself.

“Kidomaru,” he grunted back, turning away. He crossed his arms in front of him, the sleeves bunching up with the movement, and Mayuri realised that what he was hiding beneath the wide sleeves was actually a couple extra pairs of arms. Something tickled the back of her mind, a hazy recollection that she had come to associate with her memories of the show. Allowing her smile to fade, she glanced away to scan the surrounding children for a sign of Saya and her stolen clothing.

“It’s good to meet you,” she chirped, and saw him turn towards her from the corner of her eye. She turned her full attention back on him, took in the way he had adjusted his sleeves to hide his arms, and wondered if it would be rude to tell him that she thought it would be useful to have that many extra hands. She chewed her lip as she pulled her gaze away, returning to her search. A flash of blue caught her attention, and she grinned. “There she is!”

She heard Kidomaru sputtering behind her as she dashed off, the edges of his blanket fluttering about her knees. His footsteps were heavy behind her, and the distant thought that he should learn to walk more quietly fluttered across her mind. It was a strange reminder that these children didn’t have the advantages that Otogakure afforded its citizens, as strange or painful as they might be. 

“Saya! I’m done with my bath! Can I have my clothes—” She pulled up short, cutting herself off as she took in the scene before her with wide eyes. 

“Oh, hey! We’ve got them almost dry,” Saya called, her eyes shining madly as she flashed a sharp-toothed smile at Mayuri over a puddle of honest-to-gods lava. The kid who was puking up said lava, cheeks puffed out and eyes almost crossed with the effort, gave her a jaunty wave, which Mayuri returned, too baffled to do anything else. A second of stunned silence, and then—

“What are you doing to my underwear?”

“Drying them, of course. I already told you that!”

“Oh. Yeah. Thanks, I guess.”

Saya beamed and Mayuri decided that, yeah, she was definitely keeping her clothes nearby from now on. Kidomaru snorted from his place a few paces behind her, and she turned back to find him crossing his arms over his chest. All 6 of them, apparently. 

“Kidomaru let me borrow his blanket so that I could come find you,” Mayuri said, grinning back at him before returning her attention to Saya and the mystery lava-spitter, who were apparently just finishing drying her clothes. Saya tossed her the crumpled and slightly singed pile with a smile, and held the blanket around her so she could get dressed. Kidomaru didn’t say a word as he waited for her to be finished, and only grunted in response to her thanks as she handed his blanket over. He left without a word or a backwards glance, though Mayuri called out a cheerful goodbye and gave him a jaunty wave as he walked away.

“Be careful with that one,” Saya murmured once he was out of sight. She and the lava-spitter both looked surprisingly solemn. “He’s one of the Champions, and he never hesitates to kill. He’s even come after people outside of fights before. I don’t know why he’s interested in you already, but make sure you watch your back, because if you die then I’ll end up getting my ass handed to me for it.”

.

She was able to track the days that passed because of the cycles of the sunshine and darkness that filtered into the cave. The thought of being able to track them by herself instead of relying entirely on others for the day and time was indescribably exciting for her. When she tried to explain this fact in a rush of breath, eyes bright and voice a little too loud with her enthusiasm, Saya listened with a soft, sad sort of smile. She seemed to understand exactly what Mayuri meant. It made her wonder what, exactly, Saya had seen in her own short life.

On the third day, Mayuri was thrown into the arena. The first battle was easily won, her opponent a tiny little thing with big doe eyes and almost no taijutsu abilities. The girl relied almost entirely on her kekkei genkai – an amplified scream loud enough to knock Mayuri to her knees and make her ears drip blood – to shock her opponents long enough to get close and deliver a finishing blow. 

The girl’s downfall was, of course, that she had to get close at all. Mayuri had been training under Otogakure’s senseis for years, and while she had never been the best at technical skills or remembering kata, it was hard to beat her in an all-out brawl. Her bones reacted almost free of her will, her body moved on instinct, and Mayuri was left standing over her opponent, the winner despite the way her ears rung and her head felt like it was splitting in two. 

When the vaguely familiar jounin who was proctoring the fight smiled at her from behind the mask of the standard issue uniform, Mayuri felt herself smile back, dazed. When he ordered her to kill the girl laid out at her feet and choking back tears, she felt herself begin to tremble. She said no with her stomach churning and bile on her tongue, and didn’t stop shaking until long after the man had nodded his acceptance of her refusal and returned both girls to the cell.

She...hadn’t expected it to be so easy to say no. She had thought that there would be more of an argument and that she would be punished for daring to disobey a direct order once again. Instead, there had been no threats, no anger or ominous declarations, and no further orders. The jounin had just nodded once, asked if she was sure, and then led Mayuri and her bloodied opponent back through the Underground to their cell.

Mayuri sat in a patch of sunshine, contemplating what this new development might mean as the children around her gave her a large berth. It probably had something to do with the fresh blood on the collar of her tunic. Or maybe the fact she had a bad case of resting bitch face. Either one would be a plausible reason to stay away.

She didn’t move when she felt someone settle at her side. Saya nudged her, rough enough that it might have sent her sprawling if she hadn’t already braced herself. The older girl stayed close, pressed tight against Mayuri’s side, sharing her warmth. 

“I see you met Ryouko,” she said. Mayuri flinched as she felt warm fingers slip beneath her hair and brush against her earlobe, which was still streaked with flakes of dried blood. “She’s got one hell of a shriek, huh? Not much use outside of surprise attacks, though. She reminds me of a flashbomb.” 

“They wanted me to kill her,” Mayuri whispered. Her hands had clenched into fists in her lap as she willed them not to start shaking again. She could almost see the blood staining her fingers. She had already killed Emi. She had been so close to killing that boy just days before. Why did they keep asking her for more?

“Did you?”

Mayuri turned to her, eyes wide as she gasped, “Of course not!”

Saya’s mouth twisted in that strange way, half-grimace, half-smile. She shook her head, cloud of blue hair swaying with the motion. Mayuri’s indignant shock turned to a worried frown.

“What are they going to do, since I refused?”

“Nothing, probably. People usually can’t do it the first few times. Everyone caves eventually, though. It’s hard not to, especially when it starts becoming you or them.” Saya shrugged. Her eyes were distant. “They probably knew you weren’t going to kill her. Ryouko might not be much now, but she’ll probably be able to kill someone with just her voice in a few years.”

“Then why tell me to do it at all? What if I had actually killed her?”

“No big loss.” Saya shrugged again. “Most of the people of her clan develop the same ability. She just happened to be in the right place at the right time, and Orochimaru-sama saved her.”

Mayuri’s brow furrowed, confused. “What do you mean by ‘saved her?’”

“It’s the same story all around. Kids with kekkei genkai aren’t usually well received by most people, you know? Bastard kids get killed or sold off all the time. That’s how Orochimaru-sama found most of us.”

“Sold off?” Mayuri repeated, her voice low. Dread was coiling in her stomach at the creeping realization of what Saya must have lived through. Saya cocked her head, like the notion of killing or selling children for any reason was normal and she didn’t understand why Mayuri was so disturbed.

“Yeah. Usually to the highest bidder. Sometimes to turn them into weapons, sometimes for freak shows or to tote around like exotic pets. I got sold off to this brothel that specializes in servicing people with really weird kinks. Some shinobi get off on the freaky shit kekkei genkai users can do.” She paused, frowning slightly as she considered Mayuri’s expression. “You know what those words mean, right? Brothel and kink and stuff?”

Mayuri nodded wordlessly. She felt sick to her stomach. She had never considered that wherever these kids had come from might have been worse than where they were now. Saya nodded back, her lips curling into another of her manic grins.

“How about you? Where did Orochimaru-sama pick you up from?”

Mayuri’s voice was so soft and low, it was barely a breath as she said, “The clan compound. My granny had a kekkei genkai and they were afraid that my sister and I would develop it, too. Our father wasn’t a part of the clan, so maybe they thought our loyalty would be split. They killed our granny, and wanted to kill us, too. Our mother brought us here.” Her voice dropped lower, and Saya leaned in closer to hear her as she whispered, “He killed her.”

“And what happened to your sister?”

Mayuri felt her heart seize, and she curled a little further in on herself. She shook her head. “I can only hope that she’s safe right now.”

Saya’s expression twisted a little, apathy melting into uncertainty at the slip of Mayuri’s mask. She tutted and drew Mayuri closer, into an awkward sort of side-hug. Mayuri tried not to squirm, unsure how to take the attempted show of support. It was strange to talk about this out loud, but here, in the depths of the Underground with others who might understand better than anyone else, she couldn’t help but be put at ease by the sense of camaraderie. She knew that Saya likely only pretended to care because her own well being depended on Mayuri surviving her time in the Underground. As she leaned into Saya’s touch, though, she couldn’t bring herself to care about that.

She couldn’t tell Saya the whole truth – would likely never be able to talk about it with anyone other than Hiroko – but saying even this much out loud lifted a weight from her chest that she hadn’t even realized she’d been carrying. Not even Dosu knew everything about their past. He had grown up the child of one of Otogakure’s top shinobi, a woman who loved him dearly even if she wasn’t always able to be around for him, and he wouldn’t have understood the pain that they faced.

Her eyes were burning, and it made her want to laugh. The stress was getting to her. She had adjusted to life in Otogakure at last, and then suddenly everything had been turned on its head all over again. This life had been nothing but awful, and she wanted so desperately to just _go home,_ a thought she hadn’t dared to allow cross her mind for so long. 

Mayuri shook her head, took a few deep breaths, and forced herself to calm down. There was nothing she could do by crying. The only thing it would accomplish would be to show everyone here that she was weak, so she swallowed around the lump in her throat and blinked back the tears.

“Here you have to fight, though. You might die or have to kill,” she pointed out, and was relieved when her voice came out mostly normal. “Is that really better?”

“I prefer it.” The answer was immediate, like Saya had expected the question, and when she smiled it wasn’t the manic grin or ugly twist of lips that Mayuri had become accustomed to. It was gentler, softer, a melancholic sort of expression that Mayuri wasn’t quite sure what to do with. “Here I at least have a chance, you know? I can see a future if I try. That’s not something I’ve ever had before.”

Mayuri couldn’t think of anything to say to that. She looked away, chewing her bottom lip anxiously as she mulled over Saya’s words. She imagined that saying sorry would be useless and might even make Saya upset, though the words still welled in her throat, clogging her airways. She had never been the best at people, so instead of speaking, she just pressed herself a little closer into Saya’s side. She felt Saya’s soft humming as it vibrated through them both, a wordless little tune.

They sat quietly, the sunshine warming their skin while the cavern around them echoed with disjointed voices. It was almost peaceful, pressed so tight to another living being, bathed in sunlight. A strange reminder that she was alive. 

As that thought passed through her head, the cavern fell into silence. Mayuri sat up straight, brow crinkling as she looked around at the children standing frozen all around her. Saya had gone stiff beside her, eyes bright and alert and trained on where the entrance to the cell was. Mayuri knew that the sudden hush meant that someone was about to be called to the arena.

The whispers grew, a single name spreading throughout the frozen crowds. Saya’s manic smile was back, the gentle expression long gone. She rose from the ground, smoothed her tattered pants, and tied her hair back with a strip of cloth she had kept wrapped around her wrist.

“Guess it’s my turn,” she said, and marched towards the front without hesitation. Mayuri watched her go, wide eyed, and resisted the urge to call out after her. 

.

“You can’t hit like that and expect someone to actually stay down,” Saya huffed, standing over Mayuri with her arms crossed over her chest. There was blood staining the front of her shirt from where it had dripped from her mouth and down her chin. None of the blood was hers; Mayuri had made sure of it, clumsy hands glowing a pale green as she ran them over Saya’s skin, healing up the small cuts and bruises with a muted sense of wonder and buried pride in her own progress with medical ninjutsu. 

Judging from the smile on Saya’s face, whoever her most recent opponent had been had not come out on top. That was a good thing for her, considering how much she had been struggling recently. Losing battles put you in danger here, where second chances were hard to come by and each of your opponents were fighting for the chance to live to see the sun again. The older girl had returned from her fight with her body still coiled tight and the urge to continue battling singing in her blood, satisfaction leaving her glowing.

Unfortunately for Mayuri, that meant she was getting her ass handed to her. She had agreed to getting in some “extra practice” after losing her last fight. Ever since that loss, Saya hadn’t shut up about how lucky she was that Orochimaru apparently wanted to keep her alive for the time being. That had been two days ago, and Mayuri’s next fight would be within a day if the pattern established over the last two weeks held true.

“I’m not sure why you’re helping me,” Mayuri admitted as she climbed to her feet, frowning as she tasted blood from her split lip. The wound stung a little, but she wasn’t sure if it should hurt more or not. It was getting harder to tell just how injured she was after each spar or fight. “What if we have to fight some day?”

“No worries. I can kick your ass any time!” Saya announced, her bloodstained fangs flashing as she grinned. “Besides, we’re in different age brackets. Unless everyone else drops dead, we won’t have to worry about facing each other for another couple years.”

Mayuri grunted her acknowledgement and got back into a starting position, her face screwed up in concentration even as her mind whirled with the new bits of information she had received. She hadn’t even known that there were age brackets that designated who would fight who. She had been stuck here for a little over two weeks, had fought five times already, and was still learning more about how this place was run every day. 

Saya lashed out, catching her in the shoulder, then the arm as she tried to block a second strike. Mayuri grunted under the force of it. Saya was stronger than Dosu, faster than Hiroko, and much bigger than Mayuri herself. She won every spar without much effort, which was a blow to Mayuri’s pride since they usually had at least a couple people watching for lack of anything better to do. The only bright side was that Mayuri knew she was improving, at least a little bit. Saya wasn’t a Champion for nothing, after all, and even if her teaching methods were more along the lines of “knock opponent down, laugh, rinse and repeat” than any _actual_ teaching, Mayuri was still getting better at defending against opponents that had size, speed, and strength on her. 

As Saya’s fist connected with her face and Mayuri found herself on the ground yet again, she had to clench her teeth and remind herself that there were good things in life that didn’t involve getting beat up. There was sunshine. She hadn’t had to kill anyone yet and she was still steadily improving. 

Neither Hiroko or Dosu had ended up in the Underground yet. That was the most important thing. 

She took a deep breath and forced herself to climb to her feet yet again. Before she could, though, Saya was upon her. Mayuri gasped as Saya pinned her down, settling her full weight just above Mayuri’s pelvic bone, keeping her knees pressed tight into her sides and her calves and bandage-wrapped feet framing the tops of Mayuri’s thighs.

She leaned down, hands clamped tight around Mayuri’s delicate wrists, and her breaths puffed across Mayuri’s jaw. She could feel chapped lips and the needle-sharp tickle of Saya’s fangs as she grinned wide against Mayuri’s neck.

“Got you again, brat,” Saya breathed, lips brushing the soft skin of Mayuri’s neck, hovering over an artery. Saya felt strangely cold as she pressed herself against Mayuri, her heartbeat fluttering like a bird in her chest as Mayuri’s own thudded dangerously loud.

Mayuri thought about the blood around Saya’s mouth and how those lips and teeth were pressed so gently against the vulnerable line of her throat. She thought about how easy it would be to will her bones to burst from her skin, to skewer Saya at each point of contact between them. It was strange, how easily they could kill one another.

Her bones rolled beneath her skin but did not break through. Saya laughed and pulled away, her smile stretched wide. Mayuri smiled back and allowed Saya to pull her to her feet. There was the itch of dried blood on her neck, pressed there by Saya, and the pounding of adrenaline through her veins. It made her feel giddy and a little lightheaded, the thought, _I could have died,_ not as heavy as it once was.

.

Mayuri opened her eyes, took in the darkness broken up by the silvery ghostlike glimmers of moonlight, and wondered what woke her. Saya was pressed tight to her side. The lava-spitter, Arata, and an older girl that went by Beru were nestled close as well, trying to ward against the chilly night air. There was the quiet murmurings of restless and sleeping children alike echoing throughout the cavern, a sound that had become comforting instead of disquieting in the last couple weeks. She closed her eyes and breathed in the smell of too many bodies mixed with the hint of clear water and a chill breeze, listened to the children all around her, and tried to make herself fall back to sleep.

It was then that the sound that woke her made itself known. Her eyes flew open, the whites of them flashing in the darkness as she searched for the source without daring to move. A muffled, choked off scream that seemed to echo all around her, shaking her right to her core. It reminded her of those moments before death, the desperation and fear rising up and bubbling in her throat, choked off as she found she suddenly couldn’t draw enough breath through a blood-filled mouth and broken ribs to cry out.

Her eyes searched the cavern, falling at last upon a figure that seemed out of place. They were crouched over someone who was lying limp on the floor. She squinted through the darkness and wished for glasses she didn’t have. 

The crouching figure was speaking, low enough that she couldn’t figure out what was being said. He sounded amused though, tone light and teasing enough that Mayuri allowed herself to relax a little bit despite the tingling of discomfort along her scalp. From what she had seen, most of the kids here generally got along. There was the occasional argument, some bullying, but it had never seemed to end too badly outside the arena. This was probably just another case of a kid getting too cocky and getting knocked on their ass for it. She sighed, and had just begun to settle back down when that choked cry sounded again. 

That wasn’t just the sound of a kid being bullied. 

She shot upright, muscles tense as she tried to figure out whether she should step in or not. If she looked hard enough, she could just make out the uncanny movement of multiple arms as Kidomaru spoke to the child at his feet, gesturing grandly as the child began to convulse. She felt her stomach churn at the choking and the breathless sobs of the child lying broken at his feet. She began to clamber up, her only thought of stopping whatever it was that was going on, when she felt a hand clamp down on her wrist, tight enough to bruise.

“Don’t,” Saya hissed, her fingers cold against Mayuri’s skin. Her eyes were glowing in the faint light of the moon, the brightest thing in the room. “If you interfere, you’ll only make yourself a target. It’s already too late for her anyways. Lay back down, kid.”

Mayuri hesitated, her eyes flickering between Saya’s solemn expression and the child that Kidomaru was tormenting. The child he was killing. Her rattling breaths were almost drowned out beneath the sound of his quiet laughter. As Mayuri watched, the girl’s convulsing stopped. Then, a second later, her breathing. Kidomaru wiped his eyes, teeth showing as he smiled widely and spoke softly, seemingly to himself.

Mayuri laid back down, trying to ignore the prickling of her skin. Saya pulled her closer, pressing her tightly to her chest. Mayuri listened to her heart, the hummingbird-winged thrum of it singing even while she rested. She tried to let it drown out the echo of a child’s last breath, a medic’s final word, her mother’s interrupted plea. She closed her eyes, and tried to recall the color of her siblings’ eyes as they smiled at her from a lifetime away.

From over her head, Saya and Kidomaru locked eyes, a challenge and a threat wrapped up in one. Saya pulled Mayuri a little closer and Mayuri, oblivious to the silent communication happening around her, curled further into herself. She did not cry, no matter how much she wanted to.

.

The battles had begun coming faster, until she was fighting once a day, then twice, then more. She was so exhausted she could barely walk, each muscle sore and her whole body aching until she could feel it even in her bones. The gnawing ache of her empty stomach and the nightmares she had been having certainly didn’t help matters.

“They’re trying to wear you down,” Saya told her. She was watching as Mayuri tried to heal herself, leaving behind a patchwork of faded scars and scabs. Most of the wounds were from opponents, but a good number were from her own bones as they sliced through her skin. She was thankful for her flexibility, or else the ones on her back would have probably never stopped bleeding.

“But what’s the point?” Mayuri murmured, her eyes narrowed in concentration and her breaths coming in open-mouthed gasps. Her chakra was running low, stealing the air from her lungs. She already knew that she wouldn’t be able to continue on at this non-stop pace, could practically feel her body begging to give out around her. “I’ve lost fights. I’m nothing special, so why are they doing this to me?”

Saya hummed quietly, her eyes half-lidded as she watched Mayuri’s glowing hands move almost mindlessly and her skin bulge and bruise as the bones shifted restlessly beneath it. Her mouth twisted.

“How old are you?”

Mayuri frowned, pausing in her clumsy attempts at healing herself to look at Saya. She shrugged. “I’m probably getting close to six years old, but I’m not totally sure, to be honest.”

“That’s why,” Saya said. “Your skill level is crazy. You’ve got good control of a pretty strong ability, you’re weirdly smart, you can use your chakra in a way that’s not normal for your age. I’ve never actually met anyone able to use medical chakra that wasn’t super old, besides Kabuto-san. You might not be great at it, but the fact you can do it at all is enough to have people interested.”

Mayuri had gone pale. She hadn’t even realized how apparent it had been that she wasn’t just another kid. The only reason she had been able to figure out the nuances of chakra control was because it was so integral in the control of her kekkei genkai, and because it was something not present in her other life. She was so aware of her own body now that having chakra had been a bit like waking up one day to find that she had grown a third arm; unwieldy and alien at first, but a part of her. She had to figure out how to use it eventually. With the help of the medics she had spent the better part of a month with (and lots of private lessons and trial-and-error) she had learned how to channel that strange new part of herself into her hands and then into knitting together cuts. It had been such a natural progression that she hadn’t even realized that it wasn’t normal.

She dropped her face into her hands and took deep breaths, trying to soothe the rising wave of self loathing. How could she not have realized? It was so obvious, now that it was pointed out. She had known that she and Hiroko were at the top of their class, had breezed through the assignments in rudimentary math and writing once they had gotten a grasp on the kanji, and had been at least proficient with their shinobi lessons. She had known that there were whispers of prodigy floating around. She just hadn’t realized that, with the addition of medical ninjutsu to her instinctual control of Shikotsumyaku, it was more than just academic prodigy status. She had believed herself so far below Hiroko in terms of ability that she had overlooked the eyes that had fallen upon herself.

It did raise the question though—

“If that’s true, then why isn’t my sister here, too? Why is it just me?”

“Orochimaru-sama is a smart man. He’s a great leader. He can be kind, but he can also be ruthless.” Saya pulled her knees to her chest and rested her chin on top of them. Her glowing eyes were nearly closed, just a hint of luminescent blue beneath heavy lashes. “The best way to control someone is to have something they want.”

Mayuri made a small, hurt noise and pressed her fingertips tight to her hairline, ragged fingernails digging into her skin. She had already known it, somewhere in the back of her mind, but having it laid out before her so plainly still hurt.

“Mayuri, you’ve been winning a lot of your fights, but you’ve been refusing to follow the final order to kill your opponent. Whatever grace Orochimaru-sama has been granting you isn’t going to last much longer. Next time you lose a fight, it might be your last. Even if you do keep winning, it might not be much longer until someone comes after you outside the arena. Just get it over with.”

“I can’t! I can’t kill anyone! Everyone here is just a little kid. How am I supposed to hurt them?”

“You already have. All you have to do now is finish the job, and believe me, when it comes down to you or them, you’ll have to.”

.

Other than Saya, Beru was the one person in the Underground that Mayuri hesitantly trusted not to try anything shady. She was close to Saya, the two of them growing up together in the Underground and rising to Champion status together. Like Saya, Beru could be ruthless in the arena but kind outside it. Unlike Saya, who had a personal interest in keeping her unharmed, Mayuri trusted Beru on virtue that she was just a good person in general. She was the kind of person that Mayuri aspired to be.

Beru was generous, sharing her hard-won food with the newer kids who hadn’t had the chance to prove themselves in battles yet. She was talkative and cheerful, kind in a way that made all the other kids look up to her even if she could be frightening and painfully blunt when she was upset. She was beautiful in an almost unsettling way, her eyes too big for her round face, her hair strangely smooth and shiny despite the conditions they lived in, and her skin soft and unmarked by scars. Most importantly, she was strong.

She had earned her Champion status by beating the majority of her opponents with ease. Her body was like elastic, each of her limbs stretching and bending in a way that made Mayuri wonder if perhaps Beru and Orochimaru were related (though she hadn’t actually seen him use that particular ability in person yet, now that she thought about it) and then just grab ahold of the person before they could get close enough to bother her. It was hard to beat someone who could clothesline you from 15 feet away, and then use her limbs like a boa constrictor to crush you without ever breaking a sweat. 

She soon got used to laughing again, smiling so much that her cheeks hurt. She loved and hated the shaky feeling of stolen happiness that welled in her chest whenever she found herself laughing with these children. It left her feeling guilty for her joy, like she knew she should be miserable and searching every second for a way to return to her sister instead of laughing with the children she may have to fight to the death someday soon. They weren’t friends, not really, but they were still companions. With Saya, Beru, and Arata, she found that she didn’t feel as lonely anymore. It was after watching Beru give Arata a noogie from 10 feet away (dancing away from the sparks that the red-faced boy spat at them both in his flustered state) that Mayuri blurted out what was on her mind.

“Did Orochimaru-sama….” She paused, unsure how to word her thoughts without offending any of the kids here who revered the man they looked up to as a savior of sorts. Beru turned to look at her, her round cheeks dimpling with her sweet smile as she waited for Mayuri to continue. Arata, freed from Beru’s clutches, took the opportunity to duck away. She wet her lips and tried again. “Did he give you the ability to stretch your limbs like that?” 

Beru looked confused for a second, full lips pursing, before laughing. She shook her head and said with a smile, “No way! I was born with this. I thought Saya was supposed to have filled you in on what this place is.”

Mayuri shook her head a little, uncertain about what the older girl meant. Beru huffed out a little breath, expression caught somewhere between amused and exasperated. Saya would probably end up getting an earful, when _(if)_ she returned from her fight.

“Everyone in here was born with their abilities,” Beru said, her smile soft. Mayuri had to bite her tongue to stop herself from blurting out that she hadn’t been. “All of us have kekkei genkai. This is one of the only places that will accept us, so we’ve all been grouped together. It’s kind of nice, huh?”

Mayuri nodded. Her thoughts were going in circles, chasing each other around her head. She remembered the night she had been brought to this place, the cells that she had passed. 

“What about the other cells?” she asked. “Are those people like us, too?”

“Some of them. They keep the kids away from the teenagers, and the teenagers away from the adults, and the girls away from the boys when they get old enough. So there’s a lot of different places people live around here.” She kneeled down, and in the dust on the floor, she drew a symbol that Mayuri recognized as the one she had noticed carved next to the cell number. “That’s the symbol to indicate that that cell is home to kekkei genkai users.”

“What about the ones without the symbol?”

Beru’s face darkened. She stood back up and brushed the dust from her knees. She was barely taller than Mayuri despite being almost six years older, yet she still managed to give the impression of towering over her. Mayuri barely stopped herself from backing away.

“Do not go near those cells, not even if you have a guard with you. The creatures inside aren’t natural. I don’t know why they’re here or how they got that way, but they have to have a purpose if Orochimaru-sama keeps them alive.” She said the word _purpose_ with a strange sort of reverence, lips curling around it softly, like she was whispering the name of someone precious. Mayuri recognized the look on her face, the same one she had seen in each person who spoke of Orochimaru. It was like he was a divine being; like he was the closest that they had ever come to finding religion in a world that told them they were nothing. Beru’s eyes shone briefly, then darkened again as she continued. “They hate Orochimaru-sama and everybody who follows him, though. They wouldn’t hesitate to hurt you if they found out that you were trying to join his village.”

Again, Mayuri had to bite her tongue from spitting out words she would regret. Instead, she nodded and thanked Beru, and they wove through the crowds of now-familiar children together to find Arata. When Saya came back they braided each other’s hair and Mayuri healed what she could and ignored the way that Saya licked the blood from her hands. 

The next time she passed by the unmarked cells, she made a point to meet the eyes looking back at her and give them her friendliest smile.

.

When the lights of the arena flickered on, too bright, too harsh, Mayuri felt her mouth go dry. Orochimaru’s golden eyes stared down at her for the first time in weeks, narrowed and cold. Saya stood across from her, fists clenched and face drained of color. Her hair looked even more wild and vibrant beneath the artificial lights, strands curling around her face and shifting with her as she bent her knees and shook her limbs out in preparation for a fight.

There was a hunger in her too-bright eyes and her wild grin. Mayuri knew that she had been waiting for the chance to perform for Orochimaru in person since she had been taken to the Underground. Saya was smart, but her drive and her bloodlust could overpower the logical part of her brain at times. It probably hadn’t even occurred to her that something was wrong.

They weren’t in the same age group, after all. This wasn’t Saya’s usual day to fight. There was no way that this wasn’t a setup of some kind. The only question was, which one of them was supposed to die?

Mayuri’s legs were shaking so bad, she was barely able to keep herself upright. Would Saya hesitate to kill her, if she won? _When_ she won, because Mayuri hadn’t been able to beat her in a single spar yet. Her bones might protect her from the worst of any damage, but being incapacitated still counted as a loss. 

Mayuri was suddenly wondering if she could be killed so easily, and if not, how they would do it. Would they stab her through the eye, aiming for her brain, or was there bone growing behind her socket, too? Could they slash her throat, or was there armor beneath her skin there? She had thought about it too many times to count, yet it had always seemed so far away, even in the midst of a fight. Faced with such an obvious setup, those faraway musings suddenly became far more important than they had ever been before.

She could feel Orochimaru’s cool gaze on her, the weight of his judgement in every tremble of her limbs and each bead of sweat that trickled down her back. Saya was shifting from foot to foot, restless as a caged animal and hungry for blood. It occurred to Mayuri that she had only ever seen the watered down version of Saya’s bloodlust and desperation to prove herself, to find a place to call home. Despite nearly a month of what some might call friendship, Saya was still fully prepared to dance on Mayuri’s grave if it meant she would get her shot at happiness.

Still, Mayuri couldn’t quite seem to find it in her heart to blame her for it.

“Begin.”

Saya was moving before Orochimaru could finish the word. Before Mayuri could even blink, she found herself thrown backwards, head bouncing against stone. She cursed, blinked stars out of her eyes, and twisted to avoid the foot aiming to stomp her chest into the ground.

Mayuri bit down on her tongue to stop herself from shrieking as she leaped to her feet, only to find herself knocked to the ground once more as Saya tackled her. Her back met stone, knocking the wind out of her. Mayuri rolled, struggling to get on top of Saya. The last thing she needed was to be pinned.

It was easy to fall into the rhythm of the fight. There was no planning or strategizing in the arena. There was only instinct and adrenaline, and the desire to live to see another day. Even as some distant part of her worried and fretted over the fact that she was facing a friend in such a hopeless situation, her body was moving, her conscious mind almost blank – a fight was the closest she ever got to quiet in her head.

Saya was snarling and spitting like an animal, her eyes shining as they reflected the light even though her face was shadowed. Mayuri snarled back, teeth snapping mere millimeters away from Saya’s arm as they wrestled. Neither of them had used their kekkei genkais yet, despite all the openings there had been. 

Mayuri knew how easy it would be to will her bones to break through her skin. At such close range and with so many points of contact between them, it would be child’s play to kill her. Likewise, Saya had had more than a few opportunities to sink her fangs into Mayuri’s exposed flesh. The venom dripping from Saya’s teeth would take longer to work on Mayuri – unless of course she managed to hit a joint, one of the few places that wasn’t guarded by a thin layer of bone growing just beneath the skin – but with enough bites and enough time, Mayuri would be down for the count.

Maybe the fact that she hadn’t bit her yet was proof that Saya would at least miss her a little when she was gone.

Mayuri leaped to her feet and backed up, trying to put distance between herself and Saya. The older girl was flashing that manic grin of hers, and Mayuri could read both panic and exhileration in her expression. She knew that her own expression probably mirrored her friend’s, adrenaline and nerves stretching her lips into the gruesome farce of a smile.

She could practically feel Orochimaru’s steady gaze on her as she sidestepped Saya’s lunge, spinning to avoid her and then jumping another few feet backwards. They were both close range fighters, so the only real options were to either engage or avoid their opponent. It would be hard to gain the high ground. 

As she dodged another lunge, ducking beneath Saya’s outstretched arm, she could feel her bones shifting and itching beneath her skin. For the first time, it occurred to her that she had an advantage. She could win this fight.

But would it be worth it, if she did win?

The thought stopped her retreat. It gave Saya the opening she needed to land a punch, fist thrown with all the force her small body could muster. Mayuri went reeling back, crouched down and hissing as she cradled her cheek. Her obvious pain didn’t make Saya pause for even a second.

She dodged the hand aimed at her face, fingers curled so that the claws would have dug gouges into her cheek. She wasn’t able to avoid the kick to the ribs, though. She was sent sliding across the floor, skin tearing and leaving a streak of blood in her wake.

Saya lunged after her, hands outstretched and eyes gleaming. Mayuri skittered to her feet, dodged, tripped and ended up down again. Her eyes caught on the gleam of exposed bone on her calf, the skin ripped away and blood welling sluggishly around the edges.

As Saya swung back around for another strike, Mayuri acted on instinct. She ducked, hands coming up to guard her face and bones bursting from her torso to create a barrier. They unfurled beneath the harsh lights of the arena, like flowers before the sunshine. Saya cried out as her knuckles connected with bone and came away torn and bloody.

Mayuri met her eyes and watched as betrayal flashed across Saya’s features. Her eyes hardened, her spine straightened, and her fangs were dripping with poison when she bared her teeth. Mayuri knew that, though unintentional, she had just changed the rules of the fight.

Saya was on her in an instant, speed and strength bolstered by the wild chakra that she had inherited from her ancestors. She could feel teeth as they scraped across bone, breaking skin and infecting her with venom. It felt strange as it slid beneath skin but above bone, burning its way further into her system with every move she made.

Mayuri clenched her teeth and fought to throw Saya off, twisting in ways that would have made both Beru and Juro-sensei proud. Her arm was beginning to go numb. When she managed to buck Saya off, squirming to put distance between them, she saw Saya licking the blood from her lips. There was something like regret in her luminescent eyes.

Mayuri glanced towards Orochimaru, daring to take her eyes off her opponent. He was not smiling as he watched their fight. He met her eye, and though he didn’t so much as bat an eyelash, it was easy to see his displeasure in the cold gaze. She clenched her teeth and pulled her eyes away, trying to focus on the issue at hand instead of letting her mind get stuck on thoughts of the look on his face as he killed the Other Mother. 

She had to do better if she wanted to live to see Hiroko again. She didn’t know if Saya would be ordered to kill her if she lost, but she knew that Saya likely would do as she was told. Which meant that the only way for them both to get out of this alive was if Mayuri won and refused to kill when she was told to.

She had never used her kekkei genkai during a spar with Saya. She had only used it when she absolutely needed to, in fights against people her own age and size, when she had thought that they really would kill her if she didn’t fight back. 

She couldn’t hold back against Saya just because she considered her a friend.

Mayuri took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. Saya was watching her intently, shifting from foot to foot. She was restless and it was easy to see that fighting Mayuri had her on edge, probably because Orochimaru was watching. Maybe because after the initial excitement she had finally realized that something was wrong with the match.

Mayuri met her eye and matched her smile for smile. She was silent as Saya charged forwards, a battle cry on her lips and determination in her eyes. She was silent as she allowed her bones to push through her skin, ribs curling protectively around her chest and head, bone forming on her arms and legs like armor and pushing through the skin of her knuckles to form two knife-sharp weapons on each hand. 

Saya’s eyes went wide, horror and confusion shadowing her pretty features. Mayuri bit back a near hysterical laugh, because she recognized that look easily. She had seen it time and time again, that look of panic whenever someone got a peek at what her kekkei genkai could really do. She knew firsthand the horror of her abilities, better than anyone else.

Even with the venom working its way beneath her bones and into her veins, burning like fire and slowing her movements, it was easy to land her first hit. Saya was still reeling from the surprise of seeing the monster that Mayuri could become and made no move to dodge the strike. 

Mayuri imagined it was probably like getting hit by steel beams. It didn’t matter that there was only the force of a five year old’s punch when her fists were covered in bone harder than most known metals. Saya struggled to get up, her eyes wide and her cheek bleeding sluggishly. There was blood on Saya’s lips and, for once, it was her own.

Mayuri’s vision was beginning to waver. She stumbled as she surged forwards and landed on Saya harder than she had intended, her body bowed until she was within striking distance from her friend. Saya took the opportunity and lunged forwards, gasping for breath as she sank her teeth into the center of Mayuri’s chest, just below her clavicle. There was desperation and panic painted across her features, her glowing eyes wild as she pumped her venom into Mayuri’s body.

Blackness crept around the edges of the world and her head felt like it was filling with cotton. Mayuri snarled down at Saya as she struggled to pull herself away, skin tearing and venom and blood dripping as they fought against one another’s hold.

Mayuri dropped all her weight, slamming Saya’s head back against the stone floor. Saya groaned, but only bit down harder. Mayuri snarled at her, saliva dripping from her lips as she struggled to remain conscious and her own surge of desperate panic rose to fill her. It took only a second of concentration, the quiet willing of the bones that had become so familiar, and the density of her bones began to change. They grew thick and heavy, an added ten, twenty, fifty pounds of weight. She barely noticed Saya’s struggles beneath her anymore, too focused on the strange sensation of change inside her body.

When she dropped her weight a second time, Saya stayed down.

She rose to her feet, her limbs shaking, heart pounding, chest throbbing. The weight of her own bones made her feel like she couldn’t support herself. She was swaying slowly back and forth, and when Orochimaru spoke he sounded muffled and far away. She tried to pay attention to him, his words, his face, but she couldn’t seem to get her eyes to focus.

She caught the curve of a cold smile, the glint of his eyes. She heard, from a thousand miles away, _“kill her.”_ Mayuri shook her head and slurred out her refusal. Her knees gave out beneath her and she landed face down on the ground, nearly face to face with her friend. She watched Saya’s breaths stir up the dust around them and wondered where the blood pooling between them came from.

A pair of sandals entered her line of vision. Kabuo crouched before her. He brushed the hair away from her face, moved the torn fabric of her top away from the wound on her chest to get a better look at it. The venom would out of her system in a matter of hours, if she was lucky. Why did he look so sad?

His eyes found hers, cool steel and grey summer twilight rolled into one. He shook his head. There was a tightness about his shoulders and in his posture, like he was trying to hide his feelings and not quite succeeding. He glanced at Saya, then back again to meet Mayuri’s eyes.

“It would have been kinder to kill her,” he whispered, his voice garbled and otherworldly to Mayuri’s ears. She didn’t have time to figure out what that could mean.

The venom found its way into her veins. The world around her disappeared.

.

The room she woke up in was small and smelled of blood and human waste. The shackles were heavy around her wrists and ankles, and no matter how much she fought and pulled, they would not budge. Her sealed chakra rendered her aching bones all but useless for anything besides giving her skin shape. The bite in the center of her chest was pulsing with infection, marks like lightning spreading out from it. From somewhere above her, there was the roar of heavy rainfall. Just inches in front of her nose, a steady stream of rainwater dripped, and the moisture from where it impacted with the ground spread across her bare feet.

The sun had disappeared soon after she had opened her eyes to find herself chained to the wall, leaving her alone in the pitch black of the underground room. She spent the night in various phases of panic attacks, over fear of the unknown, fear of starvation, torture, and death. She was only able to sleep after the pale grey of predawn had filtered into the room from the dripping cracks above, illuminating it just enough for her to see that she was not surrounded by ghosts and monsters, and that her sister’s corpse had not somehow shown up overnight. 

By the second day, Mayuri had screamed herself hoarse, demanding that someone let her go. As the hours passed and no one showed up, she realized that this could be her death sentence. Despite her pride, when faced with the reality of death by starvation, she began begging for them to let her live. Her wrists and ankles had been rubbed raw by her thrashing and fighting, blood dripping down her arms to pool in her clavicle when her legs grew too tired to support her anymore. The throbbing pain in her chest made it hard to breathe. Her stomach ached hollowly, and it was only the rainwater dripping so close that allowed to her quench her dry throat. Chained as she was she was forced to relieve herself on the spot, cheeks heating in shame.

Still no one came, and she was faced once more with the harrowing reality that she would likely die here, starving and in pain. She didn’t bother trying to force her tears back, confident that no one was coming for her. By the third day, she felt too tired to fight any more. She couldn’t keep her legs beneath her, and spent the day on the ground. Her arms tingled with pins and needles, senbon and kunai, and then went numb. She couldn’t bring herself to care.

She allowed herself to pass in and out of consciousness, glad for the reprieve the darkness brought with it. 

She hadn’t died in the arena, but she would be killed all the same. She couldn’t help but think that it would have been better to die in a battle, instead of chained to the wall. There was no dignity in dying in a puddle of your own piss.

On the fourth day they brought Saya. It took three guards to hold her, snarling and fighting as she was. Mayuri watched with glazed eyes as they chained her to the wall adjacent, trickles of water wetting down her wild hair. Her eyes flashed dangerously as they locked onto Mayuri and she offered one of her manic smiles, teeth flashing, fangs dripping.

Those fangs were the first thing they removed.

The screaming started, and didn’t stop as they removed her tongue.

Her fingers.

Her eyes. 

Mayuri watched, sobbing, screaming, begging them to stop. There was no bargaining though, nothing that they wanted other than to teach Mayuri a lesson and to hear Saya scream. The sound was garbled by blood.

They moved their way up, the wrist, the forearm, the elbow. The toes, the foot, the ankle and calves, the knee. There was no part of her flesh left unscathed, body parts removed with clinical efficiency and then discarded like trash and left to rot against the wall. 

They hadn’t touched her hair, though. It still hung long and beautiful around her mutilated face, soaked with blood and rainwater.

Eventually, Saya stopped screaming.

Mayuri watched the guards work from a puddle of her own waste. There was nothing in her stomach to throw up, though that didn’t stop her body from trying. She felt empty from shock, numb with the terror of what she was seeing and the thought, _I’m next._

She would rather go blind than see any more of this torture. She would rather be deaf, if it meant she didn’t have to hear those screams or the wet, broken gurgle of breaths drawn with broken ribs and lungs flooded with blood. Even as the thoughts passed her mind, though, the sobering realization that she very well could be rendered blind, deaf, mute, _dead_ very soon rushed to replace it. There was nothing she could do to help Saya. There was nothing she could do to save herself.

She had run out of tears hours ago. A broken sound left her mouth, her body’s last attempt at a scream or the first at half-crazed laughter.

Eventually, there was nothing else they could break or cut or remove without killing Saya. The guards, the torturers, left. Orochimaru and Kabuto came. They did not look at Saya, their eyes trained on Mayuri alone, taking in the emptiness of her eyes and the blood that decorated her arms from hours of fighting to reach her friend. 

Orochimaru smiled, stepping forward to stand above her, just outside the mess she had made. Kabuto watched with an expression she could not decipher. She watched him, searching, unable to bring herself to look at Orochimaru.

“Do you want to kill her, pet?” he asked, smooth and soothing despite the rasp of his voice. Mayuri looked at Saya, convulsing, moaning, dismembered, blind and deaf and mute, and in so much pain. 

Kabuto’s words came to her, his voice so sad, _“it would have been kinder to kill her,”_ over and over again, blocking out every other thought in her mind.

“Yes,” she said. 

The snake’s smile grew wider, warmer, like he was a proud father instead of a man who murdered children for fun. She couldn’t find it in herself to be disgusted by him. She was too tired, too scared.

The shackles fell from her wrists with a twitch of his fingers, clattering to the sodden floor with a hollow sound. She fell forward, chin scraping the stone below without feeling the sting. The chains binding her ankles together remained.

For a moment she lay where she had fallen, curled in on herself, gasping. Her fingers twitched, feeling returning slowly after hours of numbness and days of strain. She shuddered, feeling like her skin was too small for her frame, like her bones should be growing straight through her flesh even with her chakra sealed away. She wanted to be anywhere but here, anyone but who she was right now. She wanted her mama, her mom, her family and the warmth and love they brought with them. 

Saya was the same age as her youngest sister had been.

Mayuri sobbed and began the slow crawl forwards, her legs dragging behind her. She was too weak to stand, too exhausted to even try, so she crawled on her belly like a worm, dragging herself over the blood and stones and waste that had collected in this torture chamber over the years that Otogakure had been a village. Her stomach clenched again, trying in vain to turn itself inside out. She kept crawling even as she gagged, her nose running and eyes leaking.

Outside, thunder crashed and the sound of rain grew louder – the wind screaming her name just like Saya had. Chains rattled and scraped against the floor. She wondered what would happen if she died again.

It was worse up close. 

The wounds were clean, each cut precise and cauterized to keep her from losing too much blood. Mayuri tried to remember if she had met any medics who used fire techniques with their medical ninjutsu, but couldn’t quite recall. It didn’t matter anyways. She couldn’t do anything to help her friend, even if she did know the names of the people who had done this to her.

Saya convulsed, her hair spread out around her head, dyed by blood and dirt and rain, a tie dye swirl of color. Mayuri couldn’t bear to touch her, not with the way her empty eye sockets seemed to be looking right at her. She wanted to offer comfort, to help Saya in some way, but just looking at her, smelling the blood and the terror that radiated from her, made her feel sick to her stomach. 

Another choked noise, caught somewhere between a laugh and a sob. Her eyes burned but no tears came. _I really am the worst,_ Mayuri thought.

“I can’t do it without a weapon,” she whispered. The only option she had was to strangle or suffocate her, but Saya didn’t deserve those last moments of fear. She had to make it fast and painless.

Saya moaned like she wanted to say something, but her jaw was broken and her tongue was gone and her throat had been damaged by all the screaming she had already done. Mayuri felt her stomach flip and wondered how many times someone could throw up nothing before their body got the message that there was nothing left. She rested her hand on Saya’s shoulder as gently as she could, and wished she could ease the pain. Saya flinched away from the touch, the sounds she made desperate and terrified. Mayuri tore her hand away and turned towards Orochimaru, eyes wild and desperate.

“Please! I won’t try anything, so please! Just...just let me make it fast.”

Orochimaru’s eyes gleamed with amusement, his whole face lighting up with the silver flash of lightning that made it through the holes in the ceiling. Had no one aboveground heard their screams? Had they just been ignored?

“Kabuto-kun, give her a kunai since she asked so nicely.”

Kabuto followed the order without a word. His expression was empty. The blade he handed her was white, lightweight, and perfectly balanced. She recognized the feel of her own bone and barked out a shaky, broken laugh. Of course.

She forced herself to look at Saya’s mutilated face again. She tried to picture luminescent blues eyes, shining with mirth. She tried to recall the sound of her laughter, the curve of her smiles, the flash of her fangs. 

All she could think of was the way she had screamed as they had carved out her eyes, the way she had begged before they took a scalpel to her tongue. She had gagged on blood, screamed wordlessly as they took her fingers and her limbs, one by one. They had taken everything from her, then left Mayuri to clean up the remains. In this world, this hellish place, Saya would have no future. Maybe in a softer world, things could have been different. 

Mayuri’s hand was steady as she pulled the blade across her friend’s throat.

She watched as Saya gave one final gurgle, and then went silent and still. The thunder crashed and the rain poured down, plastering her hair to her head and shoulders. She thought about the lurch of her stomach as she was pushed into cold water just a few weeks before. It was similar to the lurch she felt looking at the blood that had painted the wall. Red was pooling beneath Saya’s body and creeping closer to Mayuri’s knees.

Orochimaru’s kimono rustled as he stepped closer, his geta clicking softly against the stone floor. She knew he could be just as silent in traditional clothing as he was in his shinobi gear. He was announcing his presence, being careful not to startle her, and she had no idea why he bothered with such subtle pleasantry when he had just ordered a little girl to be slaughtered in one of the worst ways imaginable. 

He kneeled before her, the hem of his white kimono brushing the ground. It soaked up the blood, and she wondered if that was some sort of symbolism. He was always soaked in blood, whether anyone could see it or not.

Now, so was she.

He rested a hand on her head, fingers curling in her dirty hair. It was a familiar, comforting gesture. She wondered if he was going to snap her neck. She thought about how her mother’s spine had jutted out of the stump of her neck after he had killed her, and wondered what her skeleton would look like once she was decomposed. Would people know she was a monster even after she was long dead?

“The next time you refuse an order, my dear,” he said, a voice she had come to love and fear, “it will be your sister chained across from you. Do you understand?”

She nodded. He smiled and gave her head a little pat. She watched Orochimaru and Kabuto leave, Kabuto telling her that they trusted she could find her way back on her own. The threat was implied.

Neither one of them so much as glanced at Saya’s mutilated body. All she had ever wanted was for Orochimaru to see her and acknowledge her, but he wouldn’t do so even in death. A death that he had ordered. Mayuri’s eyes drifted away from Saya’s face and landed on the luminescent orb that rested on the ground just a foot away from her knee. 

Saya was still watching her.

The bone kunai clattered from her hand and suddenly she was screaming, curled over Saya’s broken body, tears making tracks through the grime and the blood on her cheeks. Saya’s blood tickled against her knees, cooling quickly and congealing beneath them both.

The rain poured down, the thunder and the lightning crashed, and something inside of her titled, shifted, and broke. She held what was left of Saya close and tried not to think of her siblings in Saya’s place, or of what this life would hold. 

When she stumbled back into the cell, hurt and covered in blood, every child knew what had happened. Beru asked for details, tears welling in her eyes as she searched the empty space behind Mayuri as though hoping Saya would appear.

“It was quick,” Mayuri lied.

.

There was something different about Kabuto. Something far more cruel in the way his eyes glinted and the way his smile curved, mocking and sharp. It made something in her heart shatter because, despite what bits and pieces she could remember from the show that said otherwise, for those first two years she had really thought that he had been kind. Misguided, a little uncertain about who he was but, at his core, _kind._

Now, though, she doesn’t know anymore. No one kind could watch children killing each other with a smile like his. He found a kind of satisfaction in sending others to suffer, like he was trying to fill spaces in his own soul, finding ways to no longer be alone in his past pain and current sins.

Once, watching from behind a television screen, she might have thought it sad if she had bothered to analyze his actions further. Living it though, she found that she had no room in her heart for that kind of empathy or kindness for Kabuto. She had to reserve that for the people around her, the scared and desperate children, their hands just as bloodstained as her own. They were together in this hell, all of them understanding that survival was their main focus, that they just want to live and be happy someday and if they had to step on their friends’ corpses, then they would.

(A part of her brain whispered that maybe, if she could forgive the others, she could one day forgive herself.)

She made sure to meet Kabuto’s gaze whenever he escorted her back from a fight. She did not hide the blood on her hands or the emptiness of her gaze around him. A part of her hoped he would feel guilty, and that he would stop smiling like he had won something every time she bows to his and Orochimaru’s whims and slaughters the children they tell her to. Mostly though, refusing to wear the mask he expected and daring to look him in the eye had become her last act of defiance. 

She couldn’t refuse their orders anymore. The first time she had tried to cheat by intentionally allowing herself to be beat, she had found herself in _that place_ again. The ensuing panic attack had nearly killed her as she struggled and fought, scoring deep gauges in her skin, breaking her own bones, screaming and then hyperventilating and then starting the process all over again until she had blacked out.

(All she could picture was Hiroko being dragged through that door, chained across from her, tortured and mutilated, and then Mayuri having to…. 

She couldn’t. 

She couldn’t do that. 

...could she? It would be kinder to kill her, wouldn’t it?

She would have to.)

She was screaming again when Orochimaru swept in through the door, his Akatsuki cloak billowing behind him, his eyes narrowed and flashing. Mayuri was begging before he had even made it fully inside the room, her voice destroyed by her screams and thick with desperation. She would have thrown herself to the floor at his feet if she hadn’t been chained to the wall. 

As it was, she ignored the pain in her dislocated arms and bowed as low as she could manage. His eyes tracked the way her skin stretched and bulged, the wild look in her eyes as she tried to prostrate herself before him, the way her lips curled around pleas and promises. The cold expression seemed to fade, replaced with a sickly satisfaction.

_(“I’ll do anything! Just not Hiroko. Anyone but her.”)_

She fought to win after that, and most of the time she did. She killed who she was told to and spared those Orochimaru deemed worthy.

Seiji was killed, his throat cut while he was unconscious at her feet.

Tooru, a bone shaped as a blade cutting through flesh like it was nothing.

Natori was killed as he begged to be able to tell his brother goodbye.

Takashi was spared because he impressed the proctors during their fight. Mayuri cried for hours, the flood of relief overwhelming.

Hinoe wasn’t as lucky. Mayuri learned that time that a blade through the eye and into the brain didn’t always kill someone right away.

Orochimaru didn’t even have to tell her to kill Shigeru. She already knew he wasn’t meant to survive their encounter.

Jun killed herself before Mayuri could.

She stopped keeping track after that.

As the days passed and more and more battles were won (more and more children killed and more and more blood staining her hands) there were whispers in the cavern about a new Champion.

Despite the wary respect that most of the children showed her and even though their eyes shone with fear when they faced her in the arena, no one seemed to resent her. It probably had to do with the fact that she was willing to heal anyone who asked. It was the only thing she could think to do, to somehow make up for all the harm she would cause. (The harm she had already caused.)

It was always strange to heal someone one day, and then be faced with the very real possibility of having to kill them the next. Every time she faced someone down in the arena, she could feel herself growing further away from the reality of the situation. She lost a part of herself each and every time those light flashed on, blinding her for that brief second while she waited to see who she might have to kill that day.

Every time she stood over a child’s form (shaking, bleeding, gasping for the breath to beg to live) she would stare them down, empty eyed, and wait for the command to come. 

“Do you want to kill them?” Orochimaru would ask, and every time she would tell him no. Every time, his lips would curl and his eyes would gleam in the too-bright light. She wished for the flickering shadows of the torches or the warm glow of the sun. “Will you follow my orders, child?” She nodded silently, and could not bring herself to look at her opponent. She felt too exposed in the stadium lights, like every thought and every part of her had been laid out for examination. It made her feel even more dirty when he said, “Kill them.”

And she did.

With the blood of children on her hands, she let herself grow numb.

.

The nightmares were at their worst when the rain came. She would wake up to find Beru pressed close, body wound around and between the bones that had pressed through her skin while she slept. It kept her from thrashing during the nightmares and injuring the children who slept nearby, huddling together for warmth and comfort. The thunder would roll outside, deep enough that she felt it as it echoed through the cavern. The high ceilings amplified the noise, bouncing it around the empty space and turning it into a roar.

The echo of rain as it poured through the holes in the ceiling sounded like dozens of tiny waterfalls. The dark puddles of water reflected the lightning outside, silver and brilliant. They made her think of silvery mirrors made of ice, and of dark blood as it pooled beneath her feet. When Beru held her close, soothing her after a nightmare with gentle words and soft touches, it took everything in her not to flinch back, not to remind her that she had killed Saya. She had to bite her tongue not to confess the horrific things that had been done to their friend, the things that Mayuri hadn’t been able to save her from.

It was on one of those nights that Kidomaru tried to kill her.

She had only been asleep for a little while when the slap of skin on stone sounded directly next to her head. She startled awake, eyes wide, bones shifting beneath her skin, and mind whirling with the residual terror of her dreams. Before she could get her bearings about her, Mayuri found herself yanked upright by the threadbare collar of her tunic and slammed back against the wall. Kidomaru leered down at her.

She stared back, blinking slowly as she tried to clear the fog of sleep from her brain. She was boxed in by his body, a hand on either side of her head. Two of his hands were curled in the fabric of her tunic, knuckles pressing hard enough into her shoulders that she could almost feel the pain of it. There would be bruises, she was sure. His two free hands hung loosely at his sides, his fingers flexing slowly as she stared unflinchingly back at him, waiting for him to say what he wanted. Some distant and buried part of her thought that maybe she should be scared, considering what she had seen him do in the past, but she just couldn’t seem to find the energy required to feel anything at all.

“Let’s play a game,” he said, his twisted smile showing sharp incisors. He seemed to be waiting for some sort of reaction. Maybe he wanted her to start crying or begging for her life. It would make sense, since that seemed to be the usual reaction to his intimidation tactics. She couldn’t fault the other kids for it, really. He had killed more people than most, and he was one of the Champions for a reason.

But so was she. Numb or not, she wasn’t about to let some brat who had been brainwashed into thinking any of this was normal or okay scare her. 

Mayuri tipped her head back and mustered up the sweetest smile she could manage, wide enough that she knew that, when she spoke, he would be able to see the bones she could feel growing in the back of her throat. His eyes narrowed, head tilting forward slightly, and suddenly she noticed that there was a third eye hidden beneath the curtain of his dark bangs. That made trying to meet his eye suddenly a little awkward, because she wasn’t quite certain where to look anymore as she asked, “can I help you with something?”

Kidomaru jerked back as though he’d been hit. His smile turned to a scowl. He jerked her up to meet his eyes, her bare toes just barely scraping the stone floor. She knew that all the extra bones growing beneath her skin made her heavier than anyone else her size. Lifting her up like this was an impressive feat, considering that he was only a few inches taller than her and she had gone completely limp. Even so, she kept her smile stubbornly in place even as her head lulled bonelessly to the side.

There was a flicker of something across his face – suspicion or annoyance, perhaps. She didn’t know, and she didn’t particularly care. She had no interest in indulging his fucked up little games, even if he had shown her some kindness in the past. Playing along while he tried to make her suffer wasn’t how she planned to repay him.

She let her smile fall.

“What do you want?”

He gave her a harsh shake. She stayed limp, head flopping back to show the seemingly vulnerable line of her throat. She couldn’t seem to find the energy to so much as twitch a finger in response, too drained from weeks of bloodshed and nightmares. She just didn’t care right now. 

“I _said_ we’re going to play a game, you brat.”

He dropped her, and she crumpled to the ground. His smile was back as he kneeled beside her and trailed one hand along her cheek, the touch feather light. She kept her mouth shut, watching him with the one eye that wasn’t half hidden by her curtain of long hair. Every shallow breath she took stirred the dust on the ground beneath her cheek and rustled the strands of white that had fallen into her face. She was so tired.

“You’ve noticed by now that you can’t move, haven’t you?” His hand trailed down to press against her throat. It was a taunt, proof that he could do anything he wanted and she wouldn’t be able to stop him. Mayuri didn’t respond. His grin stretched wider. “You really shouldn’t leave yourself so open to attacks. You’re vulnerable to all sorts of things when you sleep.”

“Are you saying I shouldn’t ever sleep?” she deadpanned, unimpressed and a little baffled. He froze, childish confusion flickering across his face.

“What? I...no? No!” He scowled and shook his head, and she felt the first flickers of amusement welling in her chest and twitching at the corners of her lips. “I was just saying that I put one of my spiders on you while you slept. Now, we’re going to play a game!” 

“Is it the same game you’ve played with those other kids? The one where they have to guess where the spider is before the paralytic venom reaches their lungs and makes it so they can’t breathe anymore? I just have to say where the spider is and then you’ll cure me, right?”

“How did you—!?”

“This cell isn’t large, Kidomaru-kun. You’ve done this same thing with other people right in front of me before. You do know that I have eyes, right?”

He was frozen, three eyes wide and mouth hanging open. The hand closest to her head was curled into a white knuckled fist. Then one of his hands was tangled in her hair and tugging her head up so she had no choice but to look him in the eye, neck craned at a painful angle. A sick kind of satisfaction curled in her gut at the look on his face. She smiled. 

With a sound of rage he hoisted her up and slammed her back against the wall. Mayuri laughed at the ridiculousness of the situation; she was being bullied by someone who was trying to kill her, and she couldn’t find it in herself to feel anything worse than prickling annoyance. 

She focused on her chakra, trying to find something out of place within that all too familiar itching inside her veins. When she focused hard enough, she could feel it. There was the pulse of something cold and wild on her hip, a slight tingling just beneath her skin that had not yet moved beneath the bones to enter her bloodstream proper. If he had let her sleep longer, unaware of the threat, he might have succeeded in killing her.

As it was, Mayuri let her eyes slide closed for a brief second. Beneath the cover of her tunic her flesh bulged and tore as the bones pushed out from her skin, trapping the spider and expelling the venom that had been pooling just beneath her skin. Kidomaru hadn’t known what he was getting himself into when he targeted her, apparently.

“I’m not interested in your game, Kidomaru-kun.” Her false cheer didn’t waver even as he slammed her against the wall again, her skull bouncing against the stone. There, where skin stretched so close to bone, she did feel the impact. She forced herself not to wince – if anything, her smile only grew. 

“What are you so happy about, you freak?” he snarled. Two of his arms were braced against her torso, a forearm pressing into her solar plexus and another into her stomach. The bones beneath her skin, though strong, were more like cartilage than normal bone. They gave ever-so-slightly beneath his weight, forcing the breath from her lungs.

“Your spider is on my hip,” she told him, wheezing slightly. She watched his eyes go wide, then narrow in fury. He shoved harder into her stomach and she retched a little at the pressure. “I won, so let go of me.”

“You guessed right this time,” he said, his lips curling like Saya’s once had, half-scowl and half-smile. “You win this round, but what about next time? And when you’re gone, what’s going to stop me from getting to Otogakure and finding your precious little sister and killing her, too?”

Mayuri froze, her eyes going wide with horror even though her teeth stayed bared in the mockery of a smile. A cold fury curled inside her chest, filling her throat and numbing her heart. Any amusement she might have entertained disappeared in an instant. When she spoke, her voice was low and dangerous despite her breathlessness.

“You wanted to play a game, right?”

Kidomaru did not respond, staring at her with wary suspicion as he tried to wrap his head around her reaction. Mayuri curled her toes and swung her legs a little, just to be sure that she could. Then, she allowed her smile to turn cold.

_“New rules.”_

She grabbed ahold of the two arms pressed to her chest, forcing them to stay put with an iron-like grip, assisted by too-dense bones and the ability to lock her joints. She saw the flash of confusion, of panic, as he struggled against her sudden hold. It wasn’t enough to stop her from swinging her legs up into his stomach, bracing herself, and _shoving._

She heard the sharp intake of breath, the crack of bones, and then his screams. She let go, watched him collapse to the floor as she landed easily on her feet. She smiled down at him.

“The game is simple, Kidomaru-kun: We see how many bones I have to break before you _beg_ for me to kill you.”

The cavern had gone quiet with his scream, the soft murmurings of children disappearing beneath the sound of anguish. There were dozens of curious eyes on them, waiting to see what would happen next. Mayuri caught sight of Beru in the crowd that was beginning to gather, her long hair still wet from a bath. Arata was pressed close to Beru’s side, and she could tell by the glow of his cheeks that he was worried enough that the lava was sliding up his throat on its own. There were so many children watching her, and just a month ago that would have meant something.

She ignored them and turned her focus back on Kidomaru. He was cursing through his sobs, clutching his broken arms close. He looked like he was going to get up, like he was going to try to run away. She tilted her head, her eyes empty and her smile showing too many teeth.

“Don’t you want to play anymore, Kidomaru-kun?” she taunted, sugary sweet. She ignored the curses he spat at her and the many eyes trained on her as she knelt down to grab his leg. It snapped easily, the same chakra she had been teaching herself to use to heal brutally efficient in hurting, too. 

Mayuri could remember, through a haze of drugs and pain and confusion, the feeling of chakra being pushed into her bones years before. They had snapped as easily as twigs. She wondered if Emi had felt powerful, back then.

Kidomaru was writhing, tears streaming down his pallid face. She couldn’t make out his words over the rush of blood in her ears, pounding like war drums. Adrenaline and anger mixed inside her chest, filling her to the brim with emotion for the first time in weeks. It was a heady rush, filling her with a manic sort of glee as she let it overtake her and fill her head with the static of fury as she snapped the bones of another of his arms.

The flame of her fury only lasted so long, though. It had run out after another three bones, leaving her painfully aware of the yawning emptiness inside her chest and the gnawing sense of guilt that had taken up residence there. Kidomaru’s sobs echoed inside her head and she pulled away like she had been burned, cursing quietly. She had killed before, but this was different.

The ugly, barely healed wound on her chest throbbed in time to her heartbeats. Kidomaru’s cries sounded like Saya, desperate and hurt and terrified. She choked on the bile that rushed to fill her throat, disgusted and horrified by her own actions. 

A few stumbling steps backwards and she turned to run, breaths coming fast and heart pounding. Kidomaru’s soft sob stopped her cold. She froze, felt the chakra buzzing inside her veins and the warm pulse of it in her hands. Her bones shifted beneath her skin. 

Mayuri took a deep breath, forcing herself to calm down and turn back towards the boy she had hurt. When she kneeled beside him, he flinched away. Guilt writhed like a serpent inside her chest, making her feel hot and sick all over.

Kidomaru couldn’t escape her as she pressed a hand into his shoulder to stop him from moving as much. The breaks were all mostly clean, and none of the bones had broken through his skin. If he kept moving, though, they might. She pressed a little harder on his misshapen shoulder, feeling the movement of muscle and ligaments beneath her palm. There were soft sounds of comfort falling mindlessly from her lips, not at all paying attention to what was being said but just knowing the sound might help soothe his fears.

Looking down at his face, young and open and helpless as he cried with the pain she had caused, Mayuri felt the numbness creeping in again. How many terrified children would she have to stand over while their lives were held in someone else’s hand and their deaths rested upon her head? Watching Kidomaru sob and flinch away from her touch, she wondered if it would be kinder to kill him, too. What was there in this world, aside from pain and suffering?

But no. There was still a chance for him. Mayuri hadn’t healed anyone’s bones besides her own, but she was hoping that it wouldn’t be that much different to heal someone else’s. After all, bones were supposed to be her thing, weren’t they? She could handle this, in one way or another. She had to—it was her fault he was hurt, after all.

Kidomaru groaned as she delved deep, her chakra worming its way into his body. She could feel its path through his veins, an extra sense similar to how she imagined feelers or whiskers might gather information. Not a clear picture, but a tickle at the edge of her senses that gave her an idea about what was happening. 

Kidomaru’s chakra was wild and cold as it brushed against hers. It reminded her of mountain streams and the sensation of being followed while walking alone in the forest. She watched him sweat and squirm beneath her touch and wondered what her chakra felt like. Apparently, it was nothing like the warm, soothing touch Kabuto used. Maybe it felt like a knife pressed to the throat or like splintered bones beneath the skin. Maybe her chakra reminded those she touched of betrayal and loneliness. She had never dared to ask, too afraid of what the answer might be.

She found the first break, his radius snapped cleanly in two. He cried out again as she reset it like she had been taught in Otogakure’s survival class. He shuddered in what she could only imagine was disgust as she forced her chakra into his system, bypassing the skin and muscle that she was used to healing to focus on the the bone beneath. 

It wasn’t the same as her own, of course. His bones didn’t respond to her will or to instincts and dangers she hadn’t even been consciously aware of. With a bit of prodding, though, she was able to feel the life in the bones. She could feel the chakra running through Kidomaru’s veins resonating with her own. After that, it was just a matter of finding enough common ground to be able to convince his bones to do what she wanted them to. 

His two main eyes were squeezed tightly shut, and a distant part of her noted how long his eyelashes were. Sweat was beading on his forehead, where the third eye was open and staring intently at her. She offered it a quick smile, trying to be reassuring and probably failing, before turning her attention inwards once more. The first bone was healing and the drain on her chakra was immense. Why was it so much easier to hurt than to heal?

She spent the next three hours mending what she had broken, Kidomaru watching her with narrowed eyes and a scowl almost the whole while. Occasionally, when he thought she wasn’t looking, his expression would turn to something more thoughtful. Even in pain he was sizing her up, his sharp mind assessing her and drawing a list of possible conclusions she would probably be more comfortable never knowing.

“You good?” she asked, her chakra running dangerously low and her stomach twisting with hunger. She was ready to sleep for the next 20 hours, if she could somehow manage to get away with it. Kidomaru drew his arm back from where she had held it in her lap, examining the bruised flesh. He poked at it curiously, as though testing to make sure this arm really was healed. He had done the same with every other break, too.

“You broke seven of my bones.” He didn’t sound upset about the fact, but Mayuri still winced. “You healed all of them, though. Why?”

Mayuri shrugged. Her eyes were fixed on where her hands rested in her lap. Her fingers were swollen and her palms red with the strain of using her medical ninjutsu for so long. The scar in the middle of her chest throbbed with the beat of her heart. She couldn’t seem to find the words to apologize, a mix of pride and shame and leftover fury welling in her throat and refusing to let sorry’s slip past.

“If you had killed me, then I wouldn’t be a threat anymore.”

“You were barely a threat in the first place.” The words slipped out before she could stop them and she immediately felt her face heat up and her stomach drop. What an awful thing for her to say.

Mayuri forced herself to look at him, swallowing down the roiling emotions with the intent to let apologies spill from her lips instead. She was surprised to find him grinning at her, wide and wild and his eyes shining feverishly bright. It was hard not to reach forward and rest her hand on his forehead, just to check to make sure she hadn’t somehow fried his brain. Before she could, though, he was leaning forward to capture her hands in three of his. His grip was painfully tight, like he was keeping her from running away. She would have bruises in the shape of his hands encircling her wrists later.

“You’re going to be fun to play with,” he said, grinning wide. Mayuri groaned, but otherwise didn’t acknowledge his words. She allowed the ball of bone to detach from her hip. It fell to the ground with a sound loud enough to break Kidomaru out of whatever strange reverie he was in.

“Your spider is in there,” she told him, watching the misshapen lump of bone roll to a stop. Kidomaru reached out and grabbed it, cradling the tiny cage in his hands like it was something precious. 

“You didn’t kill her?” he asked, all three eyes wide. 

Mayuri used his moment of shock to pull her hands away from his loosened grip. She rolled to her feet, using the momentum to get herself to the wall just in time to keep from falling. Her vision blacked out as the exhaustion of the last few hours overtook her and she was left clinging to the wall for support as she tried to blink fast enough to clear her vision. 

When her sight came back, Kidomaru was hovering mere inches away, the spider sphere held to his chest. He was watching her with thinly veiled concern, and a fair bit of uncertainty. That was surprising.

“Are you okay?” he asked. His eyes were wide, his hair a mess, and his many hands fiddled nervously with the sphere in his hand and the hem of his shirt. Despite the fact that he had been fully prepared to kill her just hours before, it struck her in that moment that he was nothing more than a baby.

“How old are you?” she asked, already knowing that she was going to hate the answer. Kidomaru frowned at her, face scrunching up adorably and she already knew she was screwed by the time he held up seven fingers. 

Mayuri covered her face with both hands, her curses muffled and in a language only one other person in this world would know. Emotions she had been working hard to keep locked down came back to her, a flood of guilt and horror and disgust. He was a baby. She had tormented a seven year old. She was no better than the people who had hurt Saya—

She stopped that thought in its track, shoulders hunching as she tried to force away the nausea that churned her stomach. Maybe it was true that she was just another monster amongst the many that Orochimaru had hoarded or created. She refused to allow herself to become _that_ kind of monster, though.

She forced herself to face Kidomaru again. When he grinned at her (too wide and far too real, considering they had been trying to kill each other just hours before) she offered a shaky smile in return.

Somehow, after that, Kidomaru ended up becoming something like a friend. As the days passed, she found herself waking up not with Beru’s gentle voice and soft touches but instead Kidomaru’s wide grin and rough shoves. She wasn’t sure which she preferred, but a part of her was glad for the change. As much as she liked Beru, she couldn’t help but be reminded of Saya every time she saw her.

He seemed to view her as a rival of sort, a challenge that he wanted to overcome but also someone he could be friendly with. He hated being bored and had apparently decided that Mayuri was a good source of entertainment. She didn’t trust him to watch her back or have her best interests at heart, but she did trust that he was interested enough that he would at least hesitate before trying to kill her again. It was painfully close to the kind of relationship she had had with Saya, and it _hurt_ if she stopped to think about it long enough. And so she did her best to push aside all those memories and emotions and just focus on here, on now, on Kidomaru and the strange and ugly relationship they were beginning to form.

He called her bone girl. She called him bug boy exactly once, got an hour long lecture on the difference between arachnids and insects (which was actually extremely interesting and well informed, considering his age), and then decided to just call him Kido-chan in the most condescending tone she could. She learned that she just had to ask him to tell her more about spiders whenever he seemed to be getting too riled up, and it worked as a wonderful distraction every time.

She got to meet his spiders. There were 13 of them in all, each with a name and a personality all their own, and he hid each and every one of them in her hair every time she did anything to make him angry. He thought the way she twitched and shrieked was hilarious and Mayuri kept it to herself that the only reason she hadn’t killed them was because the oversized arachnids were probably sentient and she didn’t want to have the others seeking revenge if she killed one of their friends.

It was after he had introduced her to his largest spider that the creeping feeling of dejavu finally solidified into a memory of just who Kidomaru was. With it came an existential crisis, wondering why it was that she had seen this boy’s grown-up form in the anime but never her own. Did it mean that she would always remain in the background, content with C-Ranks or missions that weren’t important enough to show? Did it mean she would die sooner than later? Or did it mean that, like a stone tossed carelessly into a still pond or a butterfly’s gentle flight, she had already irreversibly altered this world’s course? 

She couldn’t imagine herself being anything so important. She hoped that it just meant she had always remained in the background, a filler character that she and no one else had ever noticed. She didn’t want to be anything more than that. She was content with being one among hundreds of faceless extras, if it meant she and Hiroko would get the chance to live.

Kidomaru managed to frustrate her more than anyone else had. When he made snide comments or pushed her around after days of locking her emotions away, sometimes she would snap. He loved it when she came after him with the intent to maim or kill. He screamed as she broke skin and bones, watched her with bright eyes as she healed him afterwards, and laughed with her as soon as it was all over.

She liked to think that it would help him, somehow. She wasn’t the most talented, but she was more durable than most. If he faced off against someone he couldn’t down easily enough, then maybe he would stand a better chance of surviving longer. Every time she saw his chubby little face, his mischievous smile or full-bodied laugh, she was reminded that he would die some day. She couldn’t remember the details – only that he had been a villain on the show at some point – but there was a large part of her that fervently hoped that he could somehow avoid that fate. 

When they inevitably started sparring, he tested out his slowly developing abilities on her. Apparently he had been abandoned by his parents when he came out with four too many arms and had never known what clan he might have come from. Therefore, each and every ability he developed was discovered entirely by accident. It made things exciting, because that meant that Mayuri never quite knew what was going to happen on any given day. One day it could be an orange and black spider that had grown overnight to the size of a golden retriever charging at her, intent on tearing off her arm with it fangs. The next it was a weird, goopy, web-like liquid he accidentally spit up all over her when she hit him too hard in the stomach. It ended up drying in her hair and proving next to impossible to wash out.

She cut her hair with a sharpened bone, deciding it was far too much work to save it. Her hair had been matted and filthy, anyways, she assured Kidomaru. He laughed at her and told her she looked like a boy with all her hair gone. She would miss the dual colored strands, but it was better this way. Long hair was impossible to manage even in the best of circumstances, and in a place without brushes or shampoo (and where there was always blood in her hair) it just took too much effort to bother keeping it clean and untangled.

Kidomaru was one of the only ones who could make her feel anything at all. She lived in constant fear that he would be the next one she was told to kill.

.

For her sixth birthday, Mayuri’s present was to see her sister.

Afterwards, she came back to the cell with haunted eyes and bloodied hands and her stomach sliced open. She looked like a corpse with its autopsy half done. It was as if her soul had abandoned her, leaving just a body behind.

Beru, Arata, and Kidomaru were there to greet her when she stumbled her way to their usual resting spot. Kidomaru was the one to usher her towards the bath, snarling at the others when they tried to follow. Mayuri did not react to the show of possessiveness. She just stared straight ahead and stumbled along behind Kidomaru as he took her by the hand and led her through the cavern.

The kid in the pool took one look at the approaching Champions and scrambled out, leaving a dripping trail behind him as he disappeared naked into the crowds. Kidomaru glared at anyone who stood too close, teeth bared and eyes blazing. Mayuri would have been the only one capable of seeing the worry buried beneath his ferocity, if she had been present enough to see anything at all.

Kidomaru lowered them into the pool together, Mayuri held close to his chest. He brushed a hand soothingly through her hair, his words worried and low enough that no one else would be able to hear him. Three of his hands were splayed over the cut running along her torso, tendrils of blood leaking between his fingers and lingering in a cloud for a few seconds before being swept along by the gentle current at his feet. 

The cut was messy, desperate work. It split the skin of her torso, ending just a few centimeters beneath the starburst scar she had received from Saya’s venomous bite. Her clothes were ruined and hanging loosely off her thin shoulders, spread out on one side and crumpled against his chest on the other like a broken wing. The exposed bone moved with each of her breaths, even and deep despite the zombie-like stare she was directing towards the root covered ceiling. 

“C’mon, bone girl,” Kidomaru muttered, hands pressing a little harder on the cut. Mayuri didn’t even flinch, her mind too far away and the stinging pain enough that she barely noticed a little more. “You’re stronger than this, you little brat. Get it together!”

The cold water did nothing to shock Mayuri back into awareness. After he had rinsed the blood from her skin and cleaned the wound as best he could, Kidomaru dragged them from the pool. The blood had already been washed away by the time he turned his back on the pool, Mayuri still held close.

He had seen more people die than he could count on all his fingers and every toe. He had killed most of them himself. Yet Kidomaru had never felt the kind of fear over their deaths that he did looking at Mayuri’s empty expression and gaping wound. He hated the feeling.

“Wake _up!”_ he snarled, throwing her to the ground. Her head struck the stone, setting her eyes rolling and the skin of her bisected stomach bleeding again.

Kidomaru watched as she blinked slowly up at him, eyes squinted and watering. She looked lost and weary in a way he hadn’t seen before. She wasn’t completely there yet, but he prefered that to the creepy staring. She sat up slowly, fingers gliding over the open wound.

“You gonna stop being a goddamn freak yet?” Kidomaru snapped, fingers curled into tight fists and teeth worrying at his bottom lip. Mayuri gazed up at him, numbed and lost, but not yet empty. Not yet dead.

“I can’t fix this,” she said. Her hands were shaking and her teeth were chattering. Whether from the cold or the fact that whatever adrenaline she had leftover from the fight had finally drained from her veins, he didn’t know.

“That’s not an answer,” Kidomaru said. Then, he sighed. “Lay down on your back. I’ll fix it for you.”

Mayuri’s brow furrowed, but she didn’t protest. Once she was laying down Kidomaru bit his thumb, drawing blood. A spider the size of his fist appeared in his hand, surveying the cavern with jewel-like eyes. Once the spider was satisfied that he was safe, she turned her body towards Mayuri. The soft clicking sound she made showed her concern for the girl.

“I know,” he murmured, stroking a finger over her prickly abdomen. “We’re going to do what we can for her. I need some of your strongest silk.” He took another look at Mayuri, who was still prodding at her wound with a sense of muted interest and muttering to herself, and grimaced. “A lot of silk. Do you think you can do that?”

The spider clicked her affirmation and set to work immediately. Kidomaru gathered the silk with a free hand, winding it carefully around his fingers to keep it from getting tangled. Before Orochimaru had found him, he had shared an alley with a woman who had been a seamstress before her shop had been destroyed and her body crippled in some war. She had taught him the basics of sewing despite her dislike of anyone with unusual traits or abilities. He had only had to use what he had learned to make sure he still had something to wear after difficult fights, but figured that sewing a person and sewing clothes had to be pretty much the same thing.

“Make me a needle,” he demanded, crouching down beside Mayuri. She turned her head to look at him and he was relieved to see that her eyes were clearer and more focused. Whatever stupidity she had been going through seemed to be fixing itself at last. 

“I can heal myself in a little bit,” she told him with a sigh. She sounded tired. 

“And I can sew your skin together now.” His grin was back full force now that Mayuri was herself again, and his mind was already going through ways that sewing people up could become a new game. Would it be fun to watch someone try to scream once he had sewn their mouth shut? As if she could tell what he was thinking, Mayuri smiled back at him.

“What happened?” he asked as he watched the exposed bone bubble and twist until a curved needle had formed. For just a second he could see the red of her guts beneath, before her bones filled the gap left behind. He filed the information away just in case he ever had to fight her in the arena.

“My sister….” she trailed off for a second, pausing to take a deep breath. “My sister saw me kill. I never wanted her to see me like… _this.”_

Kidomaru scoffed. “That’s stupid. If you wanted to see her again, who you are now is all that there is. What did you think she was gonna see when you two met again?”

Mayuri didn’t say anything to that. She just turned away, chewing at the skin of her lips until it bled. Kidomaru rolled all three of his eyes, but set to work on fixing the girl who was better than any toy and more interesting than any game. His spider nestled itself in the dip between Mayuri’s neck and shoulder, churring softly to comfort her, and Kidomaru noted with satisfaction that Mayuri didn’t flinch away.

He was a little disappointed to find that sewing together skin was not as easy as sewing together cloth. He was more disappointed when Mayuri didn’t scream every time the bone needle pierced her skin. Still, looking down at the patched together flesh and the silvery glint of his spider’s thread, Kidomaru couldn’t help but feel proud. His mark would be forever imprinted in his toy’s flesh, a reminder for her even if he died. Just like Saya. 

Only his would be bigger and far more impressive than the scar that girl had left behind. Kidomaru’s mark would be another reminder that she owed him, and that he owned her. 

Kidomaru’s smile was bright as he pulled Mayuri to her feet and offered to sew her clothes back together if she gave him her dinner that night. 

.

A few days later, Mayuri woke to find Kabuto standing over her. It was still dark, not even the grey of predawn illuminating the cavern in pockets of light yet. Kidomaru was sleeping beside her, two arms thrown over her waist. Beru was on her other side, Arata pulled close to her chest. (It had already been over a month, but sometimes, when she was still half asleep, Mayuri still wondered why Saya wasn’t resting with them.)

Kabuto’s lips curled into what could be a smile. “Hello, Mayuri-chan. I see you’ve made some friends.”

Despite the alarm bells blaring in the back of her head at the mere sight of Kabuto, she still had to resist the urge to roll over and go back to sleep. The fight the previous day had been exhausting and she had used a good amount of chakra healing herself afterwards. She wasn’t in the mood to be polite right now.

Mayuri blinked the sleep from her eyes and told him bluntly, “It’s not my day to fight.”

“Oh, you won’t have to worry about that anymore.” 

Mayuri stared at him for a second, hope and terror warring inside her head. His words could mean that she was either about to die, or that she was going to be taken away from here and returned to Otogakure proper. The thought of going back to the village both thrilled and horrified her; She wasn’t sure she would be able to face anyone outside this cell again, scared that they would look right through her masks and see the monster that she had become lurking underneath.

She didn’t have any choice in the matter, though. If she was going to die, she would die whether she did what Kabuto said or not. If she was to live...well, she would definitely need to do what she was told. She really only had one option, if she didn’t want to be slaughtered right on the spot.

Careful not to wake the children around her, Mayuri wriggled out of the pile. Kidomaru mumbled something as she slipped out of his hold, but otherwise didn’t stir. The air was damp and chilly and she wished immediately that she could go back to sleep. Instead she stood as straight and tall as she could manage and met Kabuto’s eye, waiting for him to announce what her fate would be.

He watched her for a few long seconds, face unreadable and eyes narrowed. She couldn’t tell what he was planning. Would her blood paint the sleeping bodies behind her or was she about to be led to freedom? She curled her hands into fists and was surprised to note that they weren’t shaking at all. 

“Follow me,” he said at last, turning on his heel and beginning his march towards the front of the cell. 

For a second, Mayuri hesitated. She wanted to say goodbye, to tell the children that she could almost consider friends that she was alright (whether it turned out to be the truth or not). Would it be kinder to just go? A clean break was always the easiest to heal, after all.

Kabuto was disappearing into the darkness of the cavern, his footsteps silent among the piles of sleeping children. If she couldn’t catch up to him, would he leave her behind? Mayuri bounced on the balls of her feet, nervous and uncertain. Then, wincing as her skin bulged and split, she forced a slender bone out from her forearm. She had been hiding it there for a while, keeping it a secret the only way she could in this place. She wiped the blood off the trinket and her hands using the hem of her tattered top, then kneeled down.

She brushed Arata’s hair out of his face and straightened the threadbare blanket around Beru’s slender shoulders. She did not touch Kidomaru. She watched him, the way his breaths ruffled his messy hair and his fingers all twitched with whatever dream he was having. As gently as she was able, she pressed the hair stick into his hand.

The bone glistened an eerie white against his dark skin. She had been working on it for almost a week, carefully carving the crude images of flowers and spiders along its length. She had been waiting for what felt like the right moment. She supposed that that would have to be now.

She hesitated just one second longer, allowing herself a last lingering glance at the dirty faces of the children before her. Would it haunt her, never knowing which of them lived and which would die? 

She couldn’t afford to wait any longer. Mayuri did not allow herself to look back as she ran after Kabuto, her bare feet silent as they carried her across the length of the cavern. She caught up to him just feet away from the cell door.

“I thought you might have chosen to stay here,” Kabuto said. He sounded amused at the thought. 

“I promised Hiroko I’d come back,” Mayuri told him. It was soft as a prayer; a warning and a plea wrapped up in one. Kabuto huffed out a soft laugh as he opened the door, locks and bars grinding against one another as his burst of chakra forced them into movement. It was a selfish and silly thought, but she couldn’t help but wonder if Kidomaru and the others would be alright without her. 

“You don’t have to worry, Mayuri-chan. You’re not about to be killed.”

The relief his words brought wasn’t as overwhelming as it might have been two months ago. She nodded and followed him out into the passage beyond. When they turned the opposite direction from the arena, she felt her muscles begin to relax as tension she hadn’t realized she was carrying drained from them. 

She was silent as she trailed behind him, trying and failing to keep track of every passageway they turned down and every hidden entrance and chakra locked door. As the cool, damp air was replaced by the stale air of Otogakure’s vents, Mayuri wondered if she would ever see these halls again. She wondered if she would ever feel sunshine on her skin or a breeze tickling her nose again in this lifetime. The Underground had been a special kind of hell, but there were things she knew she would miss.

“Why now?” Her voice echoed throughout the empty hall, swallowed up by the darkness between torches. Kabuto paused, turning back to look at her with an expression of mock surprise.

“You haven’t heard?” he asked, his voice full of lilting shock, sugary sweet and fake as anything she had ever heard.

“I’ve been a little preoccupied,” she replied, dry and unimpressed. “We tend to be a little out of the loop down in the Underground.”

“You’ve become far more valuable to Orochimaru-sama,” he told her, his stony eyes catching the light of the flickering torches. 

Mayuri wet her lips and tried to quell the fear swelling in her belly as she whispered, “Why?”

Kabuto smiled, and it chilled her to the bone.

“It would seem that that’s just what happens when a powerful clan gets wiped out overnight.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while, huh? My wonderful beta (who does not wish to be named at this time, but who knows who she is and how much I appreciate her!) probably wanted to throw me off a cliff the entire time I was writing this. Every time I thought I was finally done there were another 2,000 words that needed to be written. In the end we've got more than 26,000 words, though, so I hope it was worth the wait!
> 
> Thank you to everyone who comments, follows, bookmarks, and reads this! You all mean the world to me. Let's hope the next chapter comes a little easier.


	25. Chapter 25

For the first time in three years, Hiroko felt as though she could breathe. The suffocating feeling was gone from her lungs as the sky opened up before her, clear and beautiful. A breeze played with her hair and tugged the hem of her tunic, bringing a smile to her face and filling her heart with elation. The smell of water and rice fields and the forest greenery was all around her and the sight of sunshine through the leaves was enough to bring her to tears.

As she took her first steps into the outside world, Hiroko wished that Mayuri could be there with her. Her sister had always loved the sun.

Orochimaru had paused beside her, his sharp eyes scanning the road before them. There was a long moment of silence as he worked out whatever plans and thoughts were forming inside his head. Then he leapt into motion without so much as a word.

Hiroko cursed and dashed after him, desperate to keep up. She didn’t know where they were going or why he had taken her out of the village, but the last thing she wanted was to be left behind. If she couldn’t prove herself now, then her request wouldn’t be granted and her plan would never work.

Orochimaru took to the trees and trepidation curled in her chest. They hadn’t covered that particular skill in their shinobi classes yet. They had practiced some of the finer points of chakra control, pressing pebbles and droplets of water to their heads and trying to keep them there with chakra alone. They had tried to scale the walls of the caverns, jumped from stalactites and stalagmites while the rest of the class cheered when pieces exploded as someone applied too much chakra. Trees weren’t exactly accessible when you lived underground, though. Leaping through the treetops like some kind of monkey on steroids was going to be difficult without at least a bit of practice.

So instead of trying, Hiroko stayed on the ground. She kept her eyes in front of her and the rest of her senses focused on tracking where Orochimaru was going. She knew he could hide his presence completely if he wanted to, but the fact that he hadn’t made himself untraceable made her hopeful that she hadn’t been written off as a total failure just yet.

They continued on like that until the first village came into sight, its tiny houses just barely visible through the trees. Orochimaru slowed, and Hiroko matched his pace gratefully. Her legs were burning and she could barely breathe, but she had managed to keep up with him.

He dropped from the treetops to land on the path before her, and she was a little miffed to see that he wasn’t even sweating and his hair was still perfect. He smiled at her as she tried not to glare.

“The pace will be relentless,” he told her, teeth bared and golden eyes shining. “Do you truly believe you can keep up?”

Hiroko gritted her teeth. He was waiting for her to give up, to admit defeat and turn back towards Otogakure with her tail between her legs. She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. She didn’t know if she or Mayuri could afford for her to back down. 

“I’ll figure out how to follow you through the trees,” she told him, chin raised high and mismatched eyes narrowed, confident despite the way her words came out in breathless little gasps. Orochimaru watched her for a second, eyes raking over her features in a way that made her want to hide herself. Then, his smile widened.

“Very well, my dear.”

Orochimaru allowed her a few hours to figure out how to navigate through the treetops, moving slower than necessary so she wouldn’t lose him. Hiroko had already had the basics of chakra control down, both from the academy’s lessons and her private ones with Yuki-sensei. Chakra control was an integral part of her abilities, she scolded herself, and if she could learn to wield it to control ice and create seals then she could certainly learn to use it to jump through the trees.

She left behind a trail of shattered branches and ice-covered leaves, crystalline despite the warmth of the sun. She would catch Orochimaru staring sometimes when she had to pause to adjust her chakra output. The gleam in his eyes as he watched her wasn’t quite pride – it was hungry and possessive, sending shivers down her spine – but he wasn’t angry or disappointed, so she counted it as a win. His lips stretched into a too-wide smile as he watched her, the kind of look that made a creeping feeling of wrongness curl inside her gut and made her wonder if she had made a costly mistake. She met his eyes and smiled back at him.

They traveled close to the civilians’ roads for half a day. Sometimes Hiroko would catch sight of bright patches of color through the branches, merchants’ caravans and farmers coming home from a hard day’s work. It was a sudden, dizzying reminder that there was a world outside Otogakure’s walls. For the first time since she had awakened into this life, she had proof that there were people who lived their lives outside of Orochimaru’s control. 

There was no wall or any sort of marker to indicate that they had crossed the border of Rice Patty Country, but Orochimaru paused regardless. A quick hand signal told Hiroko to stop, as well. His sharp eyes scanned the path below and the treetops above, searching for threats. When none were found, Orochimaru flickered into the branches adjacent to her. 

She met his gaze, searching for some clue to what he was thinking and hoping that she had been deemed good enough to continue onwards. He stared back, golden eyes cold and unblinking, and the breeze ruffled his perfect hair. The leaves fluttered all around him, sunlight and shadows taking turns dancing over his features. Even in the bright light of day, Orochimaru looked like some otherworldly being from whispered tales of beautiful spirits and fearful demons. Even though her chakra had been unsealed, Hiroko felt a chill climb her spine.

Then, without a word, he continued on.

When she saw a sunset for the first time in this life, her tears stopped her in her tracks. Orochimaru had waited patiently, silently, and it had been hard not to feel a little bit grateful to him. She knew that was how he reeled his victims in—with small favors and feigned kindnesses. She tried her best not to allow herself to be drawn into his web yet again.

Their pace began to pick up. Their path through the treetops began straying further from the beaten path and deeper into the trees. It was harder to keep up, but he had not yet left her behind.They kept up the relentless push forward far into the night. She sent out a silent thanks for the time she spent training her chakra and her abilities with her various instructors. There was no way she would have been able to even begin keeping up with the Otokage without that extra training, even if he was making allowances for her inexperience.

She discovered quickly that three years living underground had adjusted her eyes quite nicely for travelling by nothing more than the silver glow of the moon. Or maybe that was just the chakra she could feel pulsing through her veins and throbbing at the backs of her eyes, pushing her forward like adrenaline. 

They had to pause again when the sun rose the next morning, and Hiroko found herself crying all over again.

They travelled without stopping until they reached the borders of Fire Country, skirting towns and avoiding well travelled roads in order to stay away from any potential enemies. At the cusp between Fire Country land and Water Country sea, there was a small dinghy waiting for them, manned by a disgruntled looking old woman. The second they boarded, Hiroko let herself collapse to the wet floor. 

Every muscle in her body was crying out. She felt like her chakra itself was throbbing with exhaustion. She had gone longer without sleep, but this was the first time she had pushed her body to its limits like she had over the last few days. 

As the little boat was pushed from the shore, Hiroko caught Orochimaru’s eye. The look she gave him, sprawled out on the ground with sweat and seawater mingling on her skin, was imploring. He huffed out a soft breath, almost a laugh.

“If you wish to rest, now would be the best time to do so, child,” he conceded. Hiroko could have cried with relief at his words.

“If I fall asleep, will I wake up to find that you’ve left me behind?” she asked, suspicion not quite masked by her joking tone. She didn’t get an answer, but after a minute of deliberation decided that a nap was worth the risk. She wouldn’t be able to continue on, otherwise. 

She didn’t trust him, but she figured that Orochimaru wouldn’t have spent years of resources on her and wouldn’t have dragged her all the way out here just to kill or abandon her. With the gentle motion of the boat and the sound of water all around her, Hiroko was asleep within seconds.

.

Water Country was just how she remembered it through her hazy, second-hand memories. The trees were twisted and pale, but grew tall and strong regardless. The foliage was lush with the springtime weather, flowers pushing their way through the dirt despite the weakness of the sunlight. And, of course, there was the mist.

It covered everything, thick and heavy and reeking of chakra. It made the skin on the back of her neck prickle and obscured anything more than a handful of yards away. Even so, there was something almost comforting about the way the mist draped over the land, the familiarity of it tickling at her basest instincts like a child remembering their baby blanket. 

She had never been outside of the clan compound, but she recognized the land just the same. It smelled like she remembered, of seawater and rotting wood and blooming flower fields and just a hint of blood beneath it all. Even though her final memory of this place was of her own death, Hiroko couldn’t help the nostalgic smile that twitched at the corners of her lips. There were bad memories associated with this country, but they were drowned out by the memories of the warmth of a home and family long lost. 

They wandered Water Country for a few days, stopping into small civilian towns and merchants’ caravans, though never for more than a few hours before they moved on to the next. Hiroko didn’t understand at first, but by the second day she figured out that they weren’t just wandering at random, but were instead gathering information. When he sent her out on her own on the third day, she was nervous, anxiety eating at her insides. Hiroko was unused to talking to strangers after spending the last three years of her life in the company of the same hundred familiar faces, but she eventually got back into the swing of things.

She knew she was an attractive child, and when Orochimaru left her on her own she just had to smile sweetly and ask her questions with wide eyes and a careful lie on her tongue. They were always answered, in one way or another. It was easy to get enough pieces to string together into a whole story, once she figured out where to look.

They had visited a large and thriving port city, and the bustle and noise had been as overwhelming as it was wonderful. Even after nearly a week of being outside of the village, she was still amazed by the many joys that could be found in the world. She was still in awe of the fact that, for the first time since she had awoken into this life, she felt like she could actually breathe. The suffocating feeling in her lungs was finally gone. 

Seeing the skyline over the ocean opening up before her for the first time had been one of the most incredible moments of either life. Despite the mist, the ocean still glimmered with each cresting wave and the bits of sky she could see between the clouds were a brilliant blue. It was beautiful and endless in a way she hadn’t believed was possible in this world. For three years, it held felt like there was no world outside of the underground tunnels that made up Otogakure. She was glad that the ocean here was still as endless as it was in her other world; it made her feel small in the best way possible. 

They settled in a shipping village a few kilometers outside of Kirigakure. Orochimaru left her in an inn, along with the majority of their supplies. He changed into a kimono, elegant and flowing enough that it would hide the weapons hidden within the folds of his sleeves. Hiroko sat on the bed and watched him comb his hair out, the long strands silky and beautiful in the glow of the evening sun.

She ran her fingers through her own course hair and frowned.

“You have 24 hours to figure out why we are here, Hiroko-chan,” he told her. “The information already gathered should help you make your deduction.” 

Hiroko nodded, and he smiled at her before he turned his attention to layering a coat of venomous polish over his nails. “They’re pretty.” Her voice was almost a whisper as she watched them shimmer deep purple. 

He waited for them to dry, watching out the window as the villagers went about their day. Then he gathered up his supplies, tucking them away in a scroll and securing it beneath his obi. Despite the grueling pace he had set just hours before, he seemed to be unconcerned with the seconds now passing by. As he readied to leave he paused in the doorway, looking back at her thoughtfully. She stared back, willing her spine to remain iron and her eyes to keep their steely shine. His lips curled up into a parody of a smile at the sight.

“If anyone learns who you are, you will be killed,” he said. “Do not disappoint me, dear.”

“I won’t, my lord. I’ll be here when you return.” She stood, and bowed low. Her voice did not quiver despite the threat in his words. When she looked up again, he was gone. 

Hiroko waited for a long moment, half expecting that the Otokage would come back through the door or appear on the windowsill any second to announce that this had all been some kind of cruel joke. She was too young, too inexperienced. This entire outing was nothing more than a way to show her that she wasn’t ready to leave the village yet and they would be going back any moment, the bittersweet taste of bloody mist lingering in her mouth as some kind of cruel reminder of what she had lost and what had been done to her and her family. A week wasted, time that she could have been using to try to find more ways to free her sister from whatever hell she was living back in Otogakure.

She let herself sag to the bed, face buried in her hands. Hiroko focused on taking deep breaths, on letting the slowly welling panic drain from her body before it could fully take hold. It was ridiculous to think that Orochimaru would go to this much trouble, would cross enemy borders and spend days traveling, just so he could watch her squirm.

Everything was a test, of course. She had asked to be allowed to leave the village and had been given the opportunity to prove herself, so of course Orochimaru would want to test her abilities before giving her the okay to take Mayuri and flee from the caves of Otogakure. She just had to do what she had been asked and to pass his tests, and then (hopefully) she would be one step closer to getting her sister away from the darkness that had taken root inside of her.

Hiroko allowed herself another few moments to gather her thoughts and calm her nerves. She could do this, whatever “this” would entail.

The kimono that had been left for her was pretty, but plain. The kind of thing that wouldn’t stick out on the streets of a bustling Water Country city. She fumbled with the obi, trying to recall how her mother used to tie hers but only finding images of Orochimaru’s deft fingers flying across the fabric of his own kimono. It was scary, how she would sometimes try to find memories of people she had cared about, only for them to have disappeared. It was like that other life had never existed at all. 

She did her hair, pulling the thick black waves up into a bun and hiding a retractable blade inside the bundle. Senbon were tucked away in her sleeves, hidden by the folds of fabric. She stood by the mirror and made a few quick movements to assure herself that they would stay in place and that her sleeves didn’t bunch or move oddly. 

Satisfied, she sealed the extra supplies away and hid the scroll beneath the mattress. Then she headed out, locking the door behind her. 

In another life, she had loved big cities. She had given up everything just for the chance to make it in one, far away from her family and the life she had known. Now, though, the sight of so many strangers made her heart feel like it was twisting inside her chest. She had grown so used to the same faces day in and day out, of knowing each and every person she passed in Otogakure’s passages, that seeing so many people she didn’t know left her feeling anxious instead of exhilarated. 

After wandering the streets for about an hour, Hiroko managed to gather the nerve to yet again begin trying to make conversation. The attempts were stilted at first, the lingering effects of three years underground with the same people, but she was able to pass it off as being shy. The shopkeepers and merchants she spoke with were generally friendly enough and it wasn’t long before she found herself sliding into the swing of conversation and information gathering.

Hiroko knew that she was an attractive child, even with her mismatched eyes and sun deprived skin. If she smiled sweetly and spoke softly and batted her eyelashes, it was easy enough to get people to relax around her. It wasn’t hard to spin a tale about why she was in town, why she was alone, why she was asking so many questions. Civilians were so quick to believe a lie if it came wrapped in a pretty kimono.

Within the first 12 hours she learned that the citizens of this city were on edge because a dangerous clan lived just 50 klicks North, and Kirigakure lay somewhere to the South. There were whispers of tension, of the clans being tired of being ostracized and hunted. It was a mix of terror and excitement shining in the eyes of the merchants who leaned close and told her to be careful wandering about on her own, a pretty little thing like her. 

(She wondered how they managed to miss the family resemblance.) 

She came back to the inn long after the sky had turned dark, ignoring the eyes that lingered on her as she trapaised through the more dangerous parts of the city. She was satisfied with her work so far, and planned to gather up the last bits of information she would need to turn the pieces she had gathered into a full picture. As it turned out, though, she didn’t need the full 24 hours before the reason for their being in Water Country came to light.

It was nearing midnight when the shouts came from the streets, rousing her from her light sleep. The moon outside was full, bathing the hotel room in its silvery glow. She grabbed the tanto that was stashed beneath the pillow and made sure the holster containing her senbon was secured to her forearm before slinking to the window to peer out at the source of the commotion.

There were figures running through the streets, leaving destruction in their wake. People were beginning to awaken and sense the danger. Screams were rising into the air, echoing through the alleyways and off the tall buildings, trapped before they could make it to the sky above.

One of the figures turned, looking up at her window. She caught the way their eyes widened and shone, moonlight trapped within dark irises. The smile on their face, already stretched so wide it looked painful, fell and then rose again, stretching wider. She shuddered and backed away from the window. 

She recognized that person. She knew the crazed look in their eye and the horrible smile all too well. She had seen it more times than she could count, during each and every instance of cruelty this body had faced before it had died and she had come along to steal it away before the original soul could reclaim it. She knew her relatives when she saw them.

Hiroko swallowed down the rising panic, forced herself to take deep breaths, and distantly marvelled at how much better she was getting at dealing with oncoming panic attacks. 

Just breathe.

Breathe, and find something else to focus on. Try not to disappear into the panic, into the horror and the fear that was growing in her chest, sitting upon her shoulders and settling into her throat. Don’t think about the way it felt when men three times her size were kicking and hitting, breaking bones, collapsing lungs, cracking ribs and skulls and _gauging out her eye oh gods—_

Hiroko couldn’t breathe. 

_(Shuddering gasps. Another pill chased by another drink. A sob that wracks her whole body and makes her chest ache._

_It’s been two years since her sister died. She’s had four phone calls and fifteen people posting their condolences on her facebook page. Her mom tells her that she shouldn’t be alone today, but Elle doesn’t have anyone here that knows about Avery. It’s not exactly something she likes talking about._

_She takes a pull from the lip of the bottle, ignoring the broken glass beside her and the pills she had spilled all over the kitchen floor. Her hands won’t stop shaking. She can’t remember how many she’s taken, but obviously it hasn’t been enough._

_Avery’s memorial page is overflowing with people posting pictures, or leaving nice little notes and sweet memories. Some have made her smile despite herself, eyes burning and chest hollow. She doesn’t respond to a single comment left on the page, knowing that if she tried her words would be acid. Elle hadn’t seen a single one of those people at her sister’s funeral._

_“You don’t miss her,” she mumbles, eyes scanning blurrily over the screen of her phone. She lets it drop from her fingertips to clatter to the floor. She hears the screen crack. She thumps her head against the cabinet behind her, slow and hard, but she barely feels the sting of it. She wishes she did. “You didn’t even know her.”_

_She hasn’t been able to catch her breath in hours. Every time she thinks she might be alright, another thought or memory or “what if” comes to mind and she finds herself on the floor once again, clutching her chest and sobbing. She hates it and she hates herself. Most of all, she hates the person who took her sister from her._

_If she could find them, she knows without the shadow of a doubt that she would kill them for doing this to her, and to her family. She would kill them even though it wouldn’t bring Avery back._

_Elle lays down on the cold floor, curled up in a bed of pills and a puddle of whatever kind of alcohol she had had on hand. Outside, the sounds of the city continue on. Sirens wail in the distance and the upstairs neighbors are arguing again._

_It isn’t fair that life continues on all around her, but on this day she feels like everything should have frozen the day her sister died._

_She is as old as Avery had been. The thought makes her stomach lurch._

_Bile crawls up her throat._

_The world around her begins to fade._

_She can’t breathe.)_

She wasn’t sure when she had ended up on the floor, head between her knees and fingernails digging gauges into the delicate skin beneath her eye. The exposed points of the senbon were digging into her forearm, tiny pinpricks of blood welling and staining the white of her sleepshirt. 

As the hollers and war cries went on outside her window, the screams of civilians filled the empty spaces between buildings. She heard the yells, the laughter, the instructions shouted in a voice she recognized only from her secondhand memories. She knew where they were going and why.

She wasn’t sure why she stood from her spot upon the floor, legs shaking and fingernails bloodied, and began to gather up the contents of their room. Everything was sealed away within minutes. Her shoes were slipped on and her weapons secured within easy reach. She didn’t bother giving the room a last look as she slipped out the window, chakra pooling in her legs and strengthening her joints. She dropped the ten meters to the ground below, her landing light enough that she barely even displaced the dust that coated the road, now sticky with blood. 

She trembled at the handful of bodies that her clan had left in their wake, but did not slow. She followed the destruction like someone trapped within a dream, uncertain why she was marching forward but unable to stop herself. She followed her family like the ghost she was, white nightshirt fluttering around her thighs and the wind tangling her long black hair. She wasn’t sure whether she intended to help or to haunt, she simply felt herself drawn to follow and see what was about to happen to the clan that had not hesitated to murder their own children.

It took her longer than she had expected to catch up to them. Hiroko had not been rushing forward with a hunter’s drive. She followed on trembling legs, scared but determined to see it through. By the time she reached the site of the fighting though, it had become less of a battle and more of a massacre. 

That was to be expected. She was surprised, though, by who was on the losing side. For those first few years of her life she had viewed the Kaguya as strong, unbeatable, monstrous warriors. They moved through the world without regard for the lives of others, with the kind of bloodlust that was unique to the ancient and noble clans of Kirigakure. She had thought them untouchable.

Hiroko sank to her knees on the cliffside that overlooked the slaughter. She felt herself tremble, felt her jaw lock and her stomach churn. Her fingernails bit into the calloused flesh of her palms and the rocks dug into the tender skin of her legs, but it was all distant and muted. She watched the fighting with glassy eyes, waiting for the end. She should have felt satisfaction as she watched the clansmen who laughed as they slaughtered children fall to the ground, chilling smiles contorting their faces even as the blood pooled beneath them.. There should have been sorrow as she watched the few family members who had nurtured and cared for her collapse, limbs missing and blood staining their teeth as they grinned at the night sky. Was pity the appropriate thing to feel as she saw men and women and children fall to her family’s hand?

There was nothing inside her but a hollow, lingering apathy.

The fires burning throughout the village cut through the mist, giving her a clear view from her elevated position. She stayed there through the night, keeping silent vigil as she watched the last of her dwindling clan fall to the overwhelming numbers of Kirigakure shinobi. By the time the sun had broken across the horizon, Hiroko was one of the last living members of the Kaguya clan. 

Orochimaru found her when the sun was high in the sky, watching as the bodies of her clansmen were piled into a mass grave. Something in her gut seemed to tug. Half remembered faces flitted through her mind: A neighbor who smelled like vanilla and iron, an esteemed elder who would sit in the garden and watch the children play while she sharpened her weapons, a teenager who collected scraps of leftover leather to make tiny armor pieces for his cats. Even if the clan was the reason she and her sister had died in this life, there had still been good people and warm memories. The Kaguya had still been family.

She wondered how many families she would have to lose.

Orochimaru’s hand fell to rest heavily upon the top of her head, fingers tangling in the wild black strands. She wondered what he saw when he looked at her, sleep mussed and empty eyed, a child watching death without fear or sorrow. The last of the Kaguya. The last of the Yuki. Special, but only because of her parents. Mayuri’s little sister, protected and coddled while Mayuri bled and killed to keep the horrors of the world at bay.

Could he see just how broken she was?

She pushed the thought away; it didn’t matter. She turned to look at him — taking in the glint of his eye and the sharp slash of his smile — and realized that she was not a priority anymore.

.

It took some time, but it wasn’t hard to find the boy that Orochimaru was searching for. He had been on his own for a few days in a world he had never known, and it showed in the way he carved a path of destruction through the land. As they tracked him, Orochimaru told her what he knew of the child. He spun the tale of a boy locked away, never seeing the sun or knowing love, feared because of an ability he had never asked for.

Hiroko had to bite her tongue to resist the urge to make comparisons and spit words that she would be made to regret. Instead, she asked questions and made careful observations. She wondered what he had been doing for food, for shelter and warmth, and how he lived when he wasn’t taking out his confusion and frustration on the innocent plant life. She told Orochimaru how much happier she thought this boy would be, living in a village that would accept him. (She wasn’t sure if she was lying or not.)

When they tracked him down at last, he wasn’t alone.

Walking into the clearing, seeing two small figures made hazy by the mist, it was like she was looking at Mayuri and herself. She was pretty sure that this was what having an out of body experience was like. The two children looked almost startlingly like them, and she found herself freezing as she tried to process what she was seeing.

The Kaguya boy they were tracking stood just a handful of meters away from the strangers, his clothes tattered and splattered with blood. She took quick note of the man, the hitai-ate on his head and the grey flak jacket he wore. Her attention was quickly drawn to the child by his side.

There was a tense silence, the two men eyeing one another with cold expressions and the children looking between their respective adults with wide eyed uncertainty. The man’s hand found its way to the dark haired child, landing heavily on their shoulder and squeezing. Hiroko watched the green material of their top bunch beneath the pressure, saw the man’s knuckles turn white as he squeezed. The child didn’t so much as flinch. 

Orochimaru’s hand fell upon her own shoulder, but he did not squeeze. It was enough to shake her from her surprise, but not enough to ease the tension in her muscles. Hiroko could not pull her gaze away from the dark haired child across from her, and they in turn seemed just as entranced.

The boy they were seeking stood between the two pairs, his gaze darting between the mirror images with wide eyes and pursed lips, like he wasn’t sure if he should run or stay still and hope that he wasn’t noticed. He didn’t seem to realize that he was the one that they were there for. Hiroko wondered if he realized how valuable he had become with the fall of his clan. After all, now there were only three Kaguya left in the world. Of them, only two possessed the kekkei genkai that Orochimaru desired and the rest of Water Country feared. 

And the third….

Hiroko took in the color of the other child’s hair, the shape of their eyes and face, and the fullness of their lips. She had seen those features every time she looked in a mirror for the past three years. She knew that she was facing not one, but two family members.

And she couldn’t save either of them from whatever fate awaited them in this world. 

Hiroko broke eye contact with the child, teeth sinking into her lip to keep the frost she felt forming at her fingertips at bay. The Yuki child blinked at her and shuffled a step closer to the man they were with. In turn, the Kaguya boy turned his attention towards Hiroko and Orochimaru, green eyes narrowed suspiciously.

“Who are you?” he asked, and Hiroko was struck by the careful way he spoke, like he wasn’t used to the feeling of words in his mouth. He brushed a lock of white hair out of his eyes, and Hiroko felt a twinge in her chest at how much he reminded her of Mayuri. 

She missed her sister.

“We are here to make you an offer, my child,” Orochimaru said, his voice low and hypnotic. His attention seemed to be focused entirely on Kimimaro, but when she allowed the chakra she felt singing in her veins to come alive and slow the world around her down, it was easy to catch the way his eyes darted towards the pair sharing the clearing with them. 

The man across from them snorted. Orochimaru didn’t acknowledge him, but Hiroko couldn’t help but look again. For the first time, she really took the time to look him over. She hadn’t been worried, mostly because Orochimaru hadn’t been, and on top of that she had been way too focused on the fact that she was face-to-face with who she assumed were the last of both of her clans. The man had been deemed unimportant in the face of that fact.

His face was hidden by bandages, obscuring any immediate ways to identify him. He was tall and muscular, but skinny in the malnourished way most Water Country citizens were. He wore the standard Kiri jounin uniform and his Kiri hitai-ate was displayed proudly across his forehead, but the packs on his back and the child he had with him told a different story. There was nothing about him that stood out, nothing that would differentiate him from any other Water Country shinobi. Nothing except….

Her eyes found the sword on his back and her mouth dropped open. She recognized this man now. She had heard stories about him, growing up in the Kaguya clan’s compound. Her relatives valued a warrior’s spirit, and this man was known as a demon and a legend even within a clan of killers like the Kaguya. And, though it was hazy and distorted, she recognized him from another world altogether.

She had never gotten very far in the series, but she remembered the battle on the bridge well enough. She remembered the boy who had told Naruto about precious people, and she knew that she had cried when he died trying to save his loved one. Looking between them now, there was no doubt who they were.

“You’re Momochi Zabuza,” she murmured, her voice hanging stagnant in the misty air between them. She could feel the attention shifting to her, the man’s narrow eyes sharp and curious. “And Yuki—” 

Orochimaru’s hand tightened on her shoulder, his grip strong enough to hurt. She had to bite back the gasp that wanted to escape her lips as his fingers dug into muscle and tendon, only a twitch away from breaking bones. When she dared to glance up at him, she saw that the enchanting smile on his face had never wavered. 

“You know me, girl?” Zabuza rumbled, his gaze trained only on her. His Kiri accent was stronger than the ones she had heard in the halls of Otogakure, the sign of someone who had spent time on the streets instead of in an academy. None of the Water Country citizens that roamed the halls of Otogakure sounded like that.

“I’ve heard your name around.” She did not elaborate, and was relieved when the grip on her shoulder slowly began to loosen. She could feel Zabuza’s eyes on her, moving slowly over her form, taking in each tiny detail in the way only shinobi could. She saw his dark eyes go wide.

“You’re Yuki,” he said, almost an accusation. Haku went stiff, his eyes shining as they locked onto her, obviously seeking to find what his guardian had seen.

She hesitated, weighing her options. She could stay quiet and docile at Orochimaru’s side, show him she could follow orders and fall back. Would that be enough to convince him to accept her proposition? 

No, she didn’t think it would be. She needed to show him that she could take charge, that she could lead a mission and improvise when needed. 

Hiroko squared her shoulders, lifted her chin, and made her decision. 

“Yes,” Hiroko said, and felt Orochimaru’s grip tighten once more. She resisted the urge to shrug his hand off her shoulder, growing irritated with the way he was hovering. The Kaguya boy was still staring, wide eyed, like he didn’t know what to make of them. He was distant and wary, like a stray cat who had been spat at too many times. She met his eye, and she smiled the same smile she gave her sister when she lied about being okay. “But I am Kaguya, too.”

It was almost funny to see the same look of surprise across three different faces. Orochimaru’s expression had remained calm and open, inviting in a way that could only be a farce. He was waiting to see what Zabuza and Haku would do, and how the Kaguya boy would react to the news that she was a part of the clan that had locked him away and who he had thought had been totally destroyed. Orochimaru was a schemer, and he was already coming up with ways to turn this encounter to his advantage. 

If she was lucky, it would work out in their favor. If she wasn’t...well, if she messed this up, she suspected that there was a good chance that her sister would be stuck in that hellhole for the rest of her short life, and Hiroko herself would be killed the second Orochimaru got his hands on another child with the Hyoton kekkei genkai.

She wondered if Zabuza would fight to the death to keep Haku by his side, even now, before the boy had proven himself a useful tool. Seeing the way that the man kept his ward close by his side, she suspected that he might. It made her feel a little better to know that at least one of her family members might have found someone to truly care for them, no matter how gruff or harsh he might be. She doubted he would be able to save Haku from Orochimaru though, if the sannin really wanted him.

“I know what you’ve been through,” she said, her gaze set on Kimimaro. His eyes were wide and wet, and she felt her heart twist at how young he was. He was just a child, open and vulnerable, and she was preparing to lead him straight into a pit of snakes. She took a breath, and continued on anyways. “I know what you’ve been through, because I’ve suffered at the hands of our clan, too.”

Kimimaro’s lip trembled. “You don’t know _anything,_ ” he snarled, one hand clenched tightly around the sharpened bone in his hand. Hiroko remembered the empty look in her sister’s eyes as she held a similar weapon in her hand, not hesitating to kill the child laid out helplessly before her.

 _For Mayuri,_ Hiroko told herself. She smiled and held out a hand to the boy.

“I know. I know how it feels to be alone and scared.” 

_(Lies,_ her mind whispered. _You were never alone. You always had your big sister.)_

Kimimaro’s hand slowly lowered, the tip of his weapon dropping. His lower lip trembled. She wished that the hand on her shoulder would tighten and crush her arm. She deserved it.

(But no, that wasn’t right. Not always. There had been a time where Avery was dead, and Elle was left without a big sister. Why did that time seem so far away?)

“Our own family didn’t want me around. They tried to kill me and my sister. Orochimaru-sama, though…. He brought us home with him and we found a family that really cares. We found a place that would accept us.” Her smile was stretched wide, wide, wide enough to hurt. Kimimaro’s green eyes glistened with some emotion she did not want to name, his white hair swayed as he shifted his weight, and Hiroko wanted to scream at the loneliness she felt building inside her chest. “If you come with us, we can show you that place.”

She couldn’t bring herself to look across the clearing to Zabuza and Haku. She felt fragile and pathetic; a glass relic seconds away from crumbling or an ice sculpture halfway to water. Orochimaru’s hand slipped from her shoulder at last, and he stepped forward as the first tear traced its way down Kimimaro’s dirty face.

“There are beautiful things in this world, if you only stop to look for them.” His voice drifted through the clearing, soft and melodious. It entranced those listening, made them pause, hold their breath, desperate for more. “If you come with me, I can show you those things. I can give you a purpose.”

Hiroko schooled her face into a careful mask, hiding the derisive scowl her lips wanted to curl into. She couldn’t bear the sight of Kimimaro’s smile, his shining eyes, his flushed cheeks. She looked away, and in the process found herself locking eyes with the man across the clearing. 

Zabuza’s attention had not wavered. Even with one of the legendary sannin standing just a handful of meters away, he still had not torn his eyes away from Hiroko. She felt a shudder climb her spine, but somehow managed to meet his stare evenly. With the mood she was in it was easy to match him glare for glare, though she suspected that her glare resembled a surly pout more than anything else. It was one of the unfortunate side effects of being six and adorable.

She didn’t tear her gaze away even as Kimimaro moved forward, brushing against her as he did so. His skin was warm enough to burn her even through their clothes. There was frost gathering on the hems of her sleeves. 

Zabuza’s hand tightened on Haku’s shoulder. The other twitched towards the hilt of his sword. His eyes were _hungry._

“We’re leaving,” Orochimaru announced, cutting through the tension. His voice was soft, but firm in a way that brokered no arguments. “Kimimaro-kun. Hiroko-chan. Let’s go home.”

Hiroko heard Kimimaro repeat the word below his breath, soft and reverent. Hiroko wondered if he would be disappointed that his new _home_ was just another cage cut off from the outside world. The poor boy just couldn’t seem to get away. 

Hiroko backed up, not yet taking her eyes off the pair across from them. Zabuza’s eyes were darting between the three of them, his brow creased like he was trying to make a difficult decision. She supposed that it was probably hard to decide whether or not to attack a legendary sannin and the two volatile and powerful children with him. He wanted the power he could gain from what he assumed were two young and easily malleable children, but he wasn’t willing to risk his life for it. She scoffed, a cruel little smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

She brushed a few stray strands of hair away from her face and looked to Haku. He stared back, mirroring her movements. It was almost disturbing how much of herself she could see in him. The strange, sudden urge to say something came over her. Some part of her wanted him to come along, too, and she hated herself for it. She smiled, showing too many teeth, and he shrunk back. 

“Well?” she sang, voice rasping slightly. Haku stared back unblinkingly, confusion evident in his expression. “Are you coming, dear little cousin of mine?”

Zabuza snarled, stepping forward to hide Haku from view. Still, the boy peeked out from behind him. His big doe eyes were almost as curious as they were wary. His little hands wrapped around Zabuza’s arm, holding tight, like a murderer’s bicep was just as comforting as a teddy bear would be. Zabuza didn’t shake him off even as he drew his sword.

 _Do it,_ she thought. _Hurt me. Kill me. Kill all of us, right here. Right now. We all deserve it, don’t we?_

Hiroko lingered another moment, expectant smile stretched too wide across her features. Orochimaru did not wait for her, though he did make enough noise as he disappeared into the brush that she knew it had to be intentional. It was nice of him to give her a path to follow.

Finally, Haku shook his head. His voice was a tiny little thing, light as a butterfly’s wing as he said, “No. I want to stay with Zabuza-san.” He was surprisingly firm, despite the way his lower lip trembled. Hiroko’s smile softened. She bobbed her head.

“Maybe next time, yeah? See you then Haku, Zabuza.”

They stared as she gave a jaunty little wave and flipped away, disappearing into the woods as she chased after Orochimaru. He hadn’t gone far, seeming fairly confident that Zabuza wouldn’t risk pursuing them. Hiroko had to agree with that assessment; the gain of another child-weapon or two wasn’t worth fighting a sannin or losing the child that he already had.  
Maybe another time.

She fell into step beside Orochimaru. Their feet made no sound as they moved through the forest, birds and animals falling silent in their wake. Kimimaro ran ahead of them, stopping to examine the plant life and then turning to smile at them over his shoulder, eyes bright with excitement. He waved shyly when he saw Hiroko had taken her place by Orochimaru’s side. She waved back, smile bright but eyes distant. 

“That was a dangerous game you were playing,” Orochimaru said, low enough that the boy darting excitedly before them would not overhear. Hiroko shrugged.

“I figured I might as well see if I could get the whole set for you.”

She didn’t have to look to know that the smile that split his face was pleased.

.

“An interesting request, wouldn’t you say?” Orochimaru murmured, the sound buzzing and hollow through the projection. It flickered, his form shadowed but eyes bright and clear. 

Kabuto hummed, not bothering to turn towards the flickering form in the corner of the room. He was sitting at the Otokage’s desk, sorting through the stacks of paperwork that had been piling up since the sannin had joined the Akatsuki. There was only so much that Orochimaru could do during the brief times he returned to the village, and Kabuto didn’t mind helping out where he could. It was a nice bonus to be able to delegate what missions the village took while going through the reports and data statements without worry of looking suspicious. 

“I’m not sure it’s such a strange thing to request, actually.” Kabuto flipped open the newest mission report, scanning over it as he spoke. Deft fingers turned page after page of stolen information. “Those two have been well beyond what basic academy lessons could teach them for a while now. They’ve never had much luck making friends their own age, so their only role models are adults instead of peers. They see you and I coming and going frequently enough. It was only a matter of time before they got bored and requested to leave the village to carry out missions.”

“You expected this.” Orochimaru’s voice was light and teasing, but there was an edge to it that could only be heard by those already looking for it.

“I suspected,” Kabuto corrected, tossing a file into the garbage can beside the Otokage’s desk. “Although I didn’t think we’d be hearing one of them asking for a few years yet.”

“Is that so?” 

Kabuto nodded, glasses slipping down his nose slightly with the motion. He frowned and took them off, smoothing back a few strands of hair that had been tickling his nose. Setting them aside, he moved on to the next file, squinting down at the messy handwriting as he tried to decipher what it said.

Orochimaru hummed and the golden eyes of the hologram curved as he smiled, unseen. “In that case, what would you propose we do, Kabuto-kun?”

The boy knew a test when he was presented with one. He wet his lips before speaking, slow, careful, but with the kind of confidence that came with time and experience. “I think that we should grant Hiroko-chan her wish.”

“And why is that?”

“She and her sister will have both become disillusioned by now. There is nothing more that the academy can truly teach them at this point and they have both seen the darker side of this village. I think that the best remedy is to give them a break from it. Send them out into the world, let them see that they will always be outsiders no matter where they go, and that there is a darker underbelly to every village in the world. Otogakure is the only place they have ever known that has treated them with kindness — they’ll want to come back once they realize that everywhere is the same in the end.”

“The devil you know,” Orochimaru murmured, and Kabuto could practically hear the poison in his words. There was satisfaction there, and Kabuto’s lips twitched towards the beginnings of a smile. He had passed the test.

“There’s a request from a merchant in Grass,” Kabuto began, deft fingers searching through the piles of files on the desk. “I believe that they would be a good fit—”

“Send them to Konoha.”

Kabuto froze, the file dropping from his fingertips back to the desk. The report slipped from the manilla folder and the loose sheets of paper fluttered to the floor. 

“I’m sorry?” 

“That village has grown complicit. _Lazy.”_ The hologram’s eyes glinted, manic in a way that only happened when the Otokage spoke of the village he had left. “The Hokage will not look twice at two orphans asking for refuge.”

Kabuto fought to hide his frown. For the first time in a while, he felt off balance and uncertain, losing the careful control of the conversation he had thought he had. Judging by the cruel smile that could only be seen through the curve of his eyes, Orochimaru knew very well just what was on Kabuto’s mind. 

The boy forced a smile and bowed low. 

“As you wish, my lord.”

.

Kabuto and his genin team turned in a mission report, eyes downcast. A merchant, his wife, and their children, living on the edge of Fire Country. The man had been worried about transporting their goods across the border and into neighboring countries, certain that he was being targeted by enemies to stop him from selling his specialized weapons. He had been just another weapon supplier in the eyes of a village as large as Konoha, but to the smaller shinobi villages, he had posed a threat.

A team had been deployed, genin being all that the merchant and his family could afford. Things had run smoothly for almost two weeks, allowing the family to make their way along their normal route. Then, without warning, the enemies had attacked. Genin weren’t enough to hold them off.

Only the daughters had survived, though not without scars.

The Hokage listened calmly, hands steepled and expression unreadable. He accepted the report but did not bother to read through it any further. Failed missions were a mark upon Konoha’s reputation, but from a nameless traveling merchant, the likelihood of any retaliation for their failure was low. The only notable thing from this particular mission was the growth of Kabuto’s medical abilities, which had saved one of the survivors.

The genin team was excused and the file was tucked away and pushed to the back of the Hokage’s mind. There were far more important things to focus on when running a village, after all.

A week later, two young girls entered into the village through the civilian entrance and requested an audience with the Hokage.


End file.
